Hearts Mechanics
by Lolymoon
Summary: "Once upon a time, there was a not-so-evil queen who was desperate for a happy ending..." This is a story of heartbreak and hope, of forgiveness and second chances, of finding home and accepting family for what it is: a funny trick of fate. My take on season 4. OQ. Regal Believer. SQ friendship. Basically Regina and lots of feels with everyone.
1. Prologue

**All right. Here we go. I own nothing and nobody owns me.  
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**First of all, I'm French, so I'll do my best to keep this intelligible but, well, Shakespeare is allowed to kill me whenever he wants for butchering English. I hope it won't come to that.**

**Second of all, I must be brain damaged to start with something so huge, but I've never liked small challenges.  
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**This story is about Regina's journey first and foremost, so she will be at the center of things but a lot of relationships will be explored here. I also made some changes and re-written some scenes from the end of season 3. And I really think that more happened during the missing year in the Enchanted Forest than the gang sitting at a table for months waiting to find some miracle idea to get rid of Zelena. **

**If some gracious soul would like to Beta my mistakes and inconsistencies, you're more than welcome and I adore you. **

**Also, this is my first attempt at fanfiction. Ever. I have no idea what I'm doing (well, I've read a lot of good stuff so that should help). So, again, probably brain dramaged.**

**And thanks to the lovely Torrealis who allowed me to borrow this beautiful picture (and go check her tumblr, her fanarts are truly gorgeous!)**

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**Brace yourselves kiddos, this will be a long one.**

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* * *

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_Hearts beat. _

_ Life startle them and birth catch them unaware, and before they know it the blood comes pouring at the speed of a stampeding horse. They stir under the pressure and awaken at the first cry, then they madly begin to pump and to pump and to pump as compensation for all the missing years of stillness. They will do it every second of every day, for a year or a century, and the roaring sound of the earth spinning wildly on its axis will be but a whisper to the ears filled by the drumming noise of the beating hearts. For nothing sounds louder than a beating heart. She knows this well. She still remembers how the heartbeat vibrating inside Henry's frail chest while he was waking up in Neverland had deaden all the other sounds in the world. Heartbeats are safe. Heartbeats are comfort. Heartbeats are hope. Heartbeats are home._

_ Heart beats. There is no truer allegory of life._

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* * *

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The sun had long sunk below the skyline and the cold little town of Maine settled in gloom, leaving the streets deserted from its inhabitants. The sight was quite depressing as usual, and the darkness had a final air about it as if the sky would never clear up enough to let another day pass by, but as Regina, Robin and Roland made their way through the foggy air, all linked arms and goofy smiles, she thought her life was so full of light tonight that daytime might as well never come again and she wouldn't give a damn. She had her own sun, and a thousand stars in her heart as she entered Granny's dinner with Robin by her side holding her hand (and then letting go before they actually crossed the door, because he knew she didn't feel safe enough with the others to allow them to witness a display of affection she still perceived as weakness), Roland trotting before them, his mouth smeared with ice cream.

Regina even felt something new that wasn't contempt or envy or annoyance when she saw Snow holding her baby, and then Henry raised his head from where he was seated with the Charmings and beamed at her as if she were the most wonderful thing to have ever walked on earth – and in her mind he was four all over again and looking at her like that every single time she walked into a room, because she _was_ his world, because she _was _his everything, and she felt dizzy with happiness and her newly returned heart beat loudly in her chest and it was aching with the heightened feelings she wasn't accustomed to anymore and it was too much, it was too great, she almost wanted it to stop – but no, never.

She returned Henry's smile and let Robin and Roland settle at a table before joining them to ask them what they wanted to drink. The little boy she had grown so fond of (the only one to have been truly able to breach past her defenses back in the Enchanted Forest and walk away unscathed and with a smile) looked up at her with a mischievous grin and asked for another ice cream. She chuckled and raised an unconvinced eyebrow while suggesting that some hot cocoa would surely be better to warm up his belly. Roland seemed to think seriously upon it for a little time, and she exchanged an amused look with Robin above his little head. Eventually, the boy agreed with enthusiasm. Robin asked for a beer, and she had begun to make her way to the bar when Emma stopped her.

She gave her a look of mild surprise, perhaps a bit annoyed as well. While their brief talk at lunchtime had sorted some of their most burning issues, not everything had been resolved, far from it actually, and she had left the scene without certainty of having been able to change Emma's mind on going back to New York. The dread had not entirely left her and for all the afternoon she hadn't been enjoying herself as fully as she should have, despite the joined efforts of Robin, Henry and Roland, and she resented Emma for that, a little.

"Hey, Regina..."

"Miss Swan."

Emma smiled knowingly. She had understood the rules of the name game between them for a while now. She earned an "Emma" from the mayor only when she deemed her worthy of it, which was a bit upsetting, even slightly offensive as she felt they had indeed reached a point in their relationship where she deserved to be called by her first name in a more permanent sort of way – but she guessed that given how she had recently acted towards Regina, the other woman had good reasons to be wary of her. But Emma didn't want that. She had learned a few things from this crazy time travel. And what's more, she had come to value the strange respect and, dared she say, care, that had grown between them. But before she could say anything (and really, she was a bit clueless on how to begin this conversation), she saw Regina cast a glance at her parents' table.

"So", the mayor began, "I've heard you have been quite the hero again today. You even have a little fairytale of your own now, haven't you? And you finally got to enjoy a taste of the privileged life of royalty."

Emma knew she had to be careful. She always should be around Regina, yet that had never prevented her from repeatedly putting her foot in her mouth with an alarming ease. But she was learning. She had more insight on the woman now. She could guess that the displeasure in her tone covered her hurt, because Regina had done this many times before. She barked and bit to hide a bleeding mouth. Emma wondered if the edge she felt the other woman to be on had something more to do with her adventure rather than their conversation earlier in the day (had it really been only one day, here? Time travel was so _weird_). For Emma was now in the Book as yet another champion of Good when all of the Queen's tales remained gruesome examples of Evil – and Emma had added a superfluous one to the long list of infamy. She wondered if Regina grudged her somehow for that.

"Yes well... I wouldn't say hero because most of the time we were trying to fix our own mistakes, but, you know, we got out of it alive and we didn't do too much damage so... I guess it could be worse. And as for royal life, you tell me, I've known only a five minutes ball and a night of dungeons."

"Ah. The latter you owe to me, I believe. I'm sorry."

This was new, unsettling as well as appreciated, the way words of apology spilled more easily from Regina's mouth nowadays. She was nowhere ready to make amends for the bigger evils of her life, but she managed to find subtle, convoluted ways of showing her remorse.

"It's no big deal, I've slept in worse motel rooms, believe me. Your cells were almost comfy compared to it."

There was an embarrassing pause that Emma did not want to prolong and so she quickly spoke, almost with muffled words as she tried to let them out all together at the same time:

"You know... I wanted to thank you for what you said to me earlier."

Regina made this face where you could read a slightly superior "indeed?" in her tiny grin, which was infuriating, but also familiar in a good and safe way. The woman was such a far cry from the Evil Queen she had seen in the Enchanted Forest. But even then, even while she was watching her bullying and entire village, Emma had not be able to truly see the difference, not because she had not changed, she knew deep down that the Evil Queen in Regina had taken another shape entirely, and maybe vanished for good, but because she had only ever perceived the woman as the real, complicated person she was, and not as a fairytale persona.

"I take it you have thought about it?"

"Yeah, I did. You know, being in the past has made me... understand a lot of things. And just... well, let's say that I'm over the New York crisis."

"I'm... glad to hear that."

They shared a truly genuine smile, and Emma felt very hopeful for what she still had to say.

"But there's... something you should know. You see, I've brought someone back... from the past."

"I'm sorry, you did what?"

Emma winced at the snarl in Regina's voice and was brought back a few days earlier when the mayor had learned how David had foolishly risked getting their son hurt and half her town destroyed by letting the boy drive his truck. To be honest, Emma thought that it had indeed been a stupid thing to do, but while she knew that she had probably done something equally dumb by bringing this woman into the future, she didn't think she could stomach another fit of Regina's temper and she definitely was not in the mood for a lecture, especially not after the cordial exchange they just had.

"Yes, yes, I know, it's not the brightest thing I've done, but..."

"That's an understatement!"

"Hey, play nice, okay? I guess I broke some... magical taboo or whatever, but, really, Regina, I had no choice, she was going to die and..."

"You don't understand! This is very serious, Emma..."

Ah, yes, she had forgotten this: the other times Regina used her first name were when she was distressed. And the mayor was not easily distressed unless she had good reasons to be. That didn't seem good.

"Your actions may have altered the timeline dramatically! There is no way to know the impact of what you've done, no way to notice if something goes wrong because for us it would have always been this way! You could have erased all of our existences for one single stupid mistake, you could..."

Emma raised her hand in surrender to stop Regina's ranting.

"All right, all right, don't lose your head, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, I meant no harm. But it's not that bad, I'm mean she was supposed to die anyway so we just removed her from her time and it's as if she's truly dead, back there, right? Since she's not around anymore in the past? And now she can start a new life here."

"If she was supposed to be dead she should be dead. You tampered with Fate, you can be sure there will be consequences."

"And I'll deal with it, okay? You have nothing to worry about. Jeez, don't make things so complicated, would you? I saved a life. On which world could it be a bad thing?"

Regina stared hard, but said nothing. She knew her words didn't have any weight on the savior. Not as long as there was no proof behind them, no actual disaster. She truly hoped they wouldn't have to come to that and that she was wrong, but she had practiced magic long enough to know that her wishes were all vain. Magic always came with a price, and the one they would get for tampering with time and breaking one of the three fundamental laws of magic would be steep.

"See, I'm trying to get her – the woman I brought back – to get her accostumed to this world and she had met some people already but she just saw you and she... still thinks of you as..."

Emma lowered her eyes and scrunched up her nose, clearly embarassed, and Regina had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes at this childish display of a guilty conscience. Emma didn't care about probably ruining their entire future but she was feeling skittish about naming her for who she really was? (But you hadn't been her for such a long time, said a small voice she almost immediately crushed, you don't see yourself that way anymore and neither does she) Regina pursed her lips and chose to help her out:

"Evil."

It did feel a little weird to use that word again. Only yesterday she had been called a hero. Emma acknowledged her old title with a tight little smile and pursued, more and more cautious:

"I'm gonna bring her over, I already told her that it's okay but it's a little delicate... I feel like if she met you she'll see..."

Regina was touched, she truly was. She had never really known what to expect from Emma. One minute the savior was the only one to remember she was a human being rather than a notorious title, and the second she was taking her son away from her and demeaning her as a mother. But in the end, moments such as this one outshone the rest, when she truly felt that Emma saw her as Regina, and would only ever see her that way at the end of the day.

"I understand."

She waited while the blonde went back to the nervous looking woman at the bar, and felt a little edgy herself when she met the dark eyes of the stranger, full of distrust, fear and anger, but thoughtful. She briefly wondered if she had done some personal damage to the woman of if her defiance only came from the stories she had surely heard about her cruelty. She hoped there was no bad blood between them, no story she could not remember that would get back at her when she felt the most confident, the happiest she had felt for years. Fate always had a way to mock her like that, letting her hold beautiful illusions that would horribly shatter the instant they were about to come true. She braced herself for the encounter and achingly tried to smile when the woman was introduced to her.

"Regina, I would like you to meet..."

"Marian?"

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* * *

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_Hearts weep. Bloody tears full of misery that trails along the veins, veins that carry all the burdens of life: sorrow and hope, despair and imagination, melancholy and selflessness, hatred and love. The heart is known to have a fiery temper, but deep down her own heart is an organ of water. Though her passions burn her with the fury of a thousand suns, though her flesh holds the warmth of an unquenchable desire, though she spits fire with every word, her heart has never succumbed to the flames, had not consumed itself in grief, had not been kindled by rage, neither had it been inflamed with cruelty. The ravage in her heart had been a slow and languid process. Her heart is all elastic steel and pliant rock, it bends but does not break, it hardens at the edges but remains soft and alive at the core, a nasty, tiny sprite sealed in stone. Her heart has melt slowly in the throes of despair and drowned in the merciless and oh so strong feelings wrecking through her defenses as through a water wall. Among all the attacks she has sustained without so much as a blink, only the ones coming from inside have been able to defeat her. But from the wet ashes of her battered heart, like the Phoenix, she always rises. _

_ Hearts weep. And even though the tears of her own heart have left dripping scars behind them, she has long learned to muffle its cry. _

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* * *

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She should have known. The whole day, far, far, in the deepest, darkest corner of her mind, the one that was as familiar as home, something had whispered to her, something had tried to warn her, but for once, just for once, she wouldn't listen... the nagging feeling that something was not right, that she shouldn't feel this good, that her happiness would turn to ashes in her greedy mouth and the hope would run stale and choke her just like every single time she had hoped to escape the decadent show that was her life... no, she had not wished to listen. She had refused. She had claimed her joy, claimed her chance, she had been too bold about it, and this was how she was punished. The insidious venom of her mother's voice slithered in her ear. _You foolish girl._

She watched Robin and Roland and Marian reunite and was surprised to find that the putrescent rage and despair that had always festered in her soul at every heartbreak and every betrayal didn't come. She felt very numb. Somehow, her heart hadn't seem able to catch up what her head had already comprehended. She was very surprised when she choked on her words nonetheless while talking to Emma. Outrunning her head, her body had registered the blow and was acting accordingly. But somewhere inside her there was a void that did not make any sense. Not that she felt very much inclined to try to understand it now. She was looking at Emma as if seeing her for the very first time, and several timelines were merging in her head and all over again she was the young (foolish) girl discovering just how much her mother could really dictate her life and the young (broken) girl who learned to entrust her secrets no more and the (repulsed) newlywed queen realizing on her wedding night just how degrading her marriage would truly be for her and the (hopeful) witch in training finding out the unfair limitations of magic and...

It had to stop before she went mad.

_You just better hope to hell you didn't bring anything else back._

Emma blinked, and blinked, and there were tears in her eyes and she initiated a gesture as if to grab her harm, to hold her in place – no sorry please I didn't mean to no it wasn't what I wanted _please –_ but Regina had had enough and she brushed past her, paying her no more attention than if she had been a ghost but Emma had to speak, she had to tell her now, she hadn't wanted to but she couldn't risk letting Marian confront her without knowing, or even worse, letting _Robin_ do it...

"Regina wait, please! You have to know... The dungeons... I saved her from... "

Regina stopped but didn't look at her. Already grabbing the handle on the door, she enunciated very slowly:

"Do speak clearly, Miss Swan. I am inches away from burning your face into ashes, now is not the time to try my patience."

"When I saved her she was in the dungeons. Your dungeons. She... she was to be executed the next day because she helped Snow White. I am _so _sorry, Regina, please..."

But then the woman who was once an evil queen did something that took them both unaware and left them speechless. She laughed. She literally roared with laughter, exploded in hysteric fits of hilarity, and several heads turned towards them, including Robin and Henry.

"R... Regina?"

Emma almost put her hand on the woman's back, perhaps only to ensure she wouldn't collapse on the floor from the force of her mad laughter. But Regina instantly calmed down, turned her head and gave her a murderous look.

"Don't you dare."

She opened the door and walked into the night. Emma stayed stunned, watching Regina's back retreat further in the darkness, wondering how she could move with such poise when she must have been feeling as if dying from inside. The door slammed with the wind and Emma closed her eyes briefly. She wished she had been further advanced in magic so as to be able to cast a spell that would make her disappear. At least until she felt capable of dealing with this. Which could take a while. But she didn't have that luxury, did she? No rest for the savior. Things were excepted of her. Brave things, courageous things, right things. But no matter how much they pushed her into that role, the good people of the Enchanted Forest, she never fit well enough. She knew better. She was too rough at the edges for such polished armor. And yet she almost came to believe them. Almost came to feel entitled to her title. The Savior. But this is what she got when she entrusted her moral compass to a bunch of fairytales characters. She screwed up royally. Emma slowly turned around to meet the inquisitive looks of those who had witnessed Regina's burst of madness. Go ahead sheriff, do your job, ensure the population's safety, assure them that no, the Evil Queen didn't just had a relapse, she only had her heart broken. Again. No big deal. Enjoy your beers.

Emma met Robin's eyes and a silent understanding passed between them. With a heavy sigh, he painfully extracted himself from Marian's tight embrace. She was beaming at him and he cupped her cheeks, gentle, conflicted, suffering.

"Marian... there's something I must do, and it cannot wait. I'm sorry... I won't be long, I promise."

"What is it?"

"I... I can't tell you right now. I'll explain everything later, just..."

Her face remained frozen in a look of formidable happiness even as she began to feel confused and a little bit hurt now. Of course she couldn't understand what would be so important that it had to interrupt their wonderful reunion after years of misery from his part and days of terror from her's. But Robin had to go, he just _had to_, he had to make this right, it wasn't even about Regina, not entirely, it was about him and principles and what he had always strived to be: a honorable man.

"Do you trust me?"

She smiled, and most of the worry was removed from her eyes.

"Always."

He kissed her forehead. It felt familiar. So achingly familiar. Like all the times he had to leave her behind, often without explanations, for some grand cause of his, for some adventure he felt would be too dangerous for her. And every time, she had resented him for it. But every time, she had welcomed him back in her arms all the same, making him promise to never do it again, to never leave her again. Which he did. Promise. But he kept on leaving anyway.

"Now, go. Do what you have to do. Come back soon?"

"I'll be back before you know it."

Robin almost never lied to her. He might have concealed the truth from time to time, but he abhorred outright lies, and so did she. This lie, though, "I'll be back before you know it", this was the only one she remembered him to ever say to her, always with an absolute faith, always convinced of saying the truth, and it was the only lie that had ever hurt her, she thought while she watched him disappear behind the Evil Queen.

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_Hearts sing. Hers did when she was flying ahorse Rocinante, it did under the rare approval of Rumplestiltskin or the even fewer compliments of her mother, it did with every gentle touch of her father's hand and each brush of Daniel's lips on her skin. It sung at sunrise and sunset, for all of Henry's birthdays and for each Christmas she spent with him, it sung when she had felt Robin's hands wrap around her coal black heart and when he had devoured her with his mouth as if he could never have enough of her. It sung in battle and mayhem, when she viciously killed or thrillingly ravaged. It sung when she cast the Curse and witnessed Snow's demise and when she saw her very own town and the new life it promised her for the first time. Hearts sing, hearts swoon and sigh and soar and hers did so in bliss as well as in revenge, in purity and and in stain, in goodness and evil, and its versatility confused her so much she didn't know whether it ever ought to have sung at all. _

_ Hearts sing, and hers had always sung a warrior's chant._

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* * *

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He almost didn't make it. He almost missed her.

She had walked straight ahead, her pace impossibly fast, as soon as she had left the diner. The cold evenin air had entered her lungs as she started to pant, breathless, and it had waken her up while numbing the wound. Her head was spinning wildly, thoughts, memories whirling in her mind, she has harboring a tempest inside her, but her heart was so still, so still. She stumbled two or three times, walking too fast for her heels. The third time, she felt _his _hand grazing slightly at her elbow, an instinctive attempt to steady her, but as soon as his warmth touched her she flew her arm away from his reach, burnt. Fearing her reaction if he was the one to talk first or if he tried to touch her again, Robin walked silently by her side for a few seconds, keeping a safe distance between them, giving her her breathing space.

"I can't talk to you right now, Robin."

"I know. But can you listen?"

She didn't turn her head but she slowed down. Time seemed to slow down as well, trees bending to see, stars hushing to listen, and he dared not breathe.

"What are you doing here? Are you out of your mind?"

He was reckless. Oblivious of his first caution, he put his hand on her arm and spinned her around to face him, finally stopping her wild escape. He caught a flash of white teeth as she snarled at him, a feline ready to pounce. But no matter how threatening she wished to appear, he would say what he had to say to her anyway. He had never feared her.

"Of course, I'm out of my mind! I have no idea what is happening, I can't even..."

He closed his eyes briefly, took a deep breath and let go of her arm, letting his eyes apologize for his mouth. He hadn't mean to be manhandling her.

"I don't know what this mean. I don't know what I think, I don't know what I'm going to do or what's going to happen but before you close yourself off completely there's something I have to say."

"What do you mean you don't know what you're going to do? Your wife is back! Your true love, the mother of your child, the one you would have walked through hell for! There is no... you can't possibly think of doing anything but going back to her."

"Don't tell me what I can or can't do."

They stared at each other, hard, unyielding, yet defeated all the same, caught up in a war they hadn't begun and couldn't understand. Robin ran his hand over his face, and took a step back. They needed air. They needed time. They needed... a miracle. But he didn't have one to offer her. Only his heart and his conscience, and both were wretched and wrecked.

"I am going back to Marian. For now. Because I care deeply for her, because she's new to this world, because she's... she is Roland's mother. I haven't seen her for so long, I can't let her go, I..."

Regina lowered her eyes, and in the clenching of her jaw and the biting fof her lips he read her silent agony.

"But, Regina, we are in a relationship, you and I. We had started something good, something... more than good and I don't want to let that go either. It might take a while for me to figure this out but I promise, I..."

"You won't. You can't. You and me, it was a nice fling, but now the real thing is back, and it's over."

His breath was shallow, ragged, he looked at her with disbelief, with hurt, how could she...

"Now go back to your wife and leave me the hell alone. There can't be anything between you and me anymore. There should never have been anything. It was a _mistake_."

A snake could not have bitten harder. She turned her back on him. He was furious, but also still dumbfounded by what was happening and he couldn't react as he should, as he would if he had been in his right mind.

"A mistake, really? You didn't seem so sure of that yesterday nor today. Why would it suddenly become a mistake?"

He saw her shoulders tense and her head almost fell on her bosom, overwhelmed, and for a minute she was the very picture of wretchedness. Then she straightened up, her spine was of steel and her eyes of ice. She had summoned the queen to come to her help.

"Go ask your wife, Robin. Ask her how she was going to die. And ask her who killed her."

His heart skipped a beat. Something horribly bitter filled his mouth and he felt like throwing up.

"What... you can't mean..."

She turned away. Tears glistened on her cheeks, beautified by the moonlight. The gentle but freezing breeze undid her hair and wisps of it fluttered around her livid face like butterflies drawn to the dying light in her eyes. She had always been beautiful, but even more so when she bore the kiss of tragedy on her brow. His fingers ached to touch and sooth even as his heart recoiled in horror.

"Yes."

"I don't believe you."

It came spontaneously, as a reflex, but as soon as he said it, he knew it was the truth. She couldn't have, he knew how it had happened, it had been his fault...

Hadn't it?

She shook her head with a sad, hard smile.

"Then you're a fool, thief."

When she walked away, he didn't try to follow her.

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* * *

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_Hearts mend. They never forget and they never go back, but they better. They try, they stumble, they fall again and they despair to ever soar. But they do. One day, suddenly, they remember how to fly. And the once blackened heart brightens with a new light, with a new shade of red to balance the darkness. And in the ever-lasting twilight they are bound to live in for the rest of their days, they learn how to safely navigate between the dark holes, helped by the shine of unexpected stars. She had her owns, guiding her home. _

_Thanks mother – and the gripping fear faded away._

_There you go, telling the truth again – and the throbbing pain soothed itself._

_Don't let anything hold you back – and the long lost hope reappeared._

_Use mine for the both of us – and the taste of bliss filled her mouth._

_I believe in you – and the deadly wound healed._

_Shiny, blinding stars._

_ Hearts mend. They possess the strength and the obstinacy of growing weeds. They know they will only find their own medicine in themselves. Having been destroyed by love and having been reborn in it, she had found the cure in the poison._

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* * *

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"Mom?"

So, he had come. Her little prince. She had wondered if he would follow her here, if the Charmings would allow him to, or if they would keep him by their side, fearing for his safety? Believing she had reverted to her old ways, perhaps. Fearing darkness and corruption.

She hadn't made it to her room. She had walked slowly through the door, she had closed it, put her keys down on the table, removed her coat, her scarf, and she held herself so impossibly straight, her neck was so strained, as if she was still carrying the crown, remembering her wedding, the walk down the aisle, how she had to stand tall and be still as calm water and bear the weight, the crushing weight of her newfound royalty, the weight of her fate. She navigated around the kitchen, oblivious, a somnambulist, she had pushed the button of the tea kettle without wanting any but it was safe, it was habit, reassuring, she had then went in her study to pour herself a glass of whiskey, which she left on the counter and never picked up. Something started to buzz in her ears and as she walked passed the couch to reach the stairs, she fell.

No. She let herself fall. Her knees wobbled and buckled and she couldn't breathe, and she was on the floor.

"Mom, I'm coming in, all right?"

But you don't have your key anymore, Henry, you don't leave here anymore, my little prince, you were away, away from me, you can't...

Keys jingled and the door clicked and oh. Of course. She had given him a spare this morning. How could she have forgotten such an important detail? If ever you want to come back to your old room, she had said, it's just waiting for you – I know, and his smile was so bright. Wait, she didn't have anything for breakfast, nothing to make pancakes, Henry had always loved pancakes, she had to go to the store, but it was closed, and she didn't have anything for breakfast, and...

A small hand, but still bigger than the one she remembered, shook her shoulder gently.

"Mom? Don't you wanna sit on the couch?"

She wanted to say yes, she wanted to shake her head and to smile but she just couldn't _move_, she couldn't move at all and every time she breathed a thousand needles pricked her lungs and throat.

"Come on, mom."

And Henry helped her up – when had he become strong enough to do that? – and lead her to sit on the couch, hurrying to sit beside her, snuggling into her side, and for this moment he was her little boy again and she put her arms around him and the needles vanished and she was able to breathe.

"I'm sorry, mom. I'm so sorry. It's not fair."

If it had been anyone but Henry she would have made them shut up and swallow their tongues, but instead she found somewhere deep inside herself the strenght to give a teary smile.

"It's all right, dear. These things happen."

He pulled back a little to look upon her face with a frown.

"What, people coming back from the past? Not very likely."

"I meant failed relationships."

"It's not failed, yet, Robin..."

"Hush, hush now, Henry..."

She couldn't, she absolutely couldn't talk about this right now, not with her son, and if she heard his name one more time she would start bleeding from every pore of her skin like she was bleeding from inside.

"You deserve to be happy mom. You do. You're amazing."

Her fingers curled into fists then went limp again against his sides.

"Do the Charmings know you're here?"

"I've send them a text, I said I'd spend the night here. I sneaked out. Ma didn't want me to come because she thought you needed time alone, but I knew better."

She chuckled and buried her nose in his hair, murmuring:

"Yes, you always do, don't you?"

They stayed like that, in silence, taking all the time they needed, mother and son, lost in an embrace they had long been denied.

"It's late, Henry, you should go to sleep."

"I don't want to. I wanna make sure you're all right."

"Of course I'm all right, Henry..."

"Of course you're not! And that's okay, because you shouldn't, right now. You're upset and I want to stay with you to make you... less upset?"

"It's not your job to take care of me, Henry."

"But it's my right to care for you. I'm your son and Ma's and the grandson of Snow and David and we take this family stuff pretty seriously, all of us."

Was it rain tapping on the windows or only her own heart weeping in her ears? They listened to the wind howling outside for a while, enjoying the feeling to be home and warm. If only they had had a fire, and two cups of cocoa, and heavy blankets, it would have been perfect. But she never did perfect. And this imperfection right here was everything to her. Her son just wishing to be in her arms, to be by her side, wishing for her and nothing else. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes, dozing off from time to time as the wind was only growing stronger and louder.

"You're the one who should go to sleep, mom."

"I don't think I will sleep tonight, Henry."

"I can tell you a story if you want, it helps, right?"

"Yes. That's what I would always do."

"I know."

"You were quite insatiable."

"It's because you told it so well! You made all the funny voices and the sounds, it was like a movie."

"Flatterer."

He laughed, and the house quivered in delight, unusued to the joyous sound though it had been filled by it endlessly, a few years ago. Henry turned slightly in her arms and moved his mouth closer to her ear. Then, hesitantly, he began his story.

"Once upon a time, there was a queen, and people said she was the fairest of them all. She lived in an enchanted land with magic and knights and dragons. But she wasn't happy. Life had been very cruel to her. And so she chose to take revenge on the people who had made her unhappy, even when they didn't always mean it, and for a long time her heart became very dark and she hurt a lot of people. She even cast a terrible curse that took away all the happy endings for the people of the enchanted land. But then, she adopted a little prince. And because she loved him very much, she decided to change for him. It was very hard for her and she had to do it all by herself, but she won in the end, and she became a hero. And her little prince was very proud of her, and he loved her very much too, and he would always stand by her, and one day together, they will both find a happy ending for her that won't ever be taken away..."

"Stop. Please, Henry... stop. I love you, but I can't..."

He felt her shiver against him and he pulled her closer yet, held on tighter.

"It's okay, mom, you know? You can cry, I'm here."

Her slender fingers tangled into his hair and began to caress his skull with delicate brushes. He closed his eyes and smiled.

"My brave boy... My brave, wonderful boy..."

"We will find your happy ending, mom, I promise."

She gently interrupted him with her index on his lips.

"Don't you know, Henry? You are my happy ending. It's always been you, my little prince. You're all I need. Now, go to sleep."

But he stayed on the couch with her. And when he was fast asleep, she slowly extracted herself from his crushing hug and laid him down, putting a pillow under his head and a blanket – his favorite blanket which she had taken from his room – above him. She gave him a feather-like kiss on his brow, a lingering, loving look, then went up to her room.

Only then did she allow dry sobs to escape her, without tears and without relief. She didn't make a sound. She had learned long ago how to keep her pain a quiet affair.

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_._

_And, eventually, hearts stop. They reach the end of their journey, whether you expect it or not. Each heart contains in itself a tiny ticking time bomb and every heartbeat sounds the death knell of the seconds bleeding away. Hearts are but a refined mechanism. Sensitive pieces of horology that can only be wind up so many times before they reach their break point. As she feels happiness slip away between her disbelieving fingers, she briefly wonders when her own heart will reach its own. Just how far the resilient little thing can still be stretched under the pain before giving in. How much blows she can sustain before it becomes damaged beyond repair. And when she silently gasps for air and feels the cold settle in her chest and her pulse freeze in fright – she knows the mechanism has finally gone wrong._

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**_Thanks for reading, and leave a review! I would love to hear your thoughts on this..._**

**_Next chapter, we go back in time (don't worry, not as far as where the show took us), with some Snow/Regina, Regina/Robin, Regina/Emma and it will be a bit of comfort before the bitter stuff really takes off._**


	2. Flashback 1

**Gosh. Thank you so much to Anny Rodrigues and HeroineGauddess for my two very first reviews. You guys are amazing. If I could, I'd bake you a cake 3**

**So this chapter turned out so long I had to cut it in two, and this one is heavy on the Snow Queen feels, you've been warned.**

**I changed the name of the Snowing baby. I like Neal, I do, he's a cute racoon, but I thought it was way too creepy to name your child after the guy who banged your daughter when she was still underaged. And, you know, it would have meant so much more if the name had been Daniel. Well, that's what fanfiction is for, I guess.**

**About the updates, I'll do my best to post at least once a week? I have quite the busy life and my studies are becoming harder, but you know, I have this story figured out, I know where I'm going so it should go smoothly.**

**And I guess that's all folks. Enjoy !**

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**Storybrooke – one day earlier**

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"Come in!"

Mary Margaret was beaming as Regina cautiously entered her hospital room. The queen scrunched up her nose at the lingering smells of sweat and blood and the heady one of sterilized sheets and furnitures. This whole baby-delivery thing was a nasty business indeed. You could trust Snow to want to go through that _twice _in her life.

"I hope I'm not intruding?"

She gave a pointed look to David who was half-seated on the bed, his hands lovingly kneading his wife's shoulders, while he looked on the baby with eyes of humid adoration. He didn't even raised his head at her enquiry, and she held back a smirk. Not a two hours father and already he was a living cliché of a doting father.

Snow eagerly shook her head.

"Of course you're not. Do you want to see him?"

Regina gave a tiny smile and came slowly closer to the bed, but it was Snow she was attently observing. Exhaustion marred every single line of her face and her cheeks still bore stains of tears – she felt a pang of poisonous guilt in her chest, where her heart used to beat – but Snow was glowing beautifully, all relief and happiness and love, and guilt receeded in Regina to envy and sadness. Was this how she would have looked had she been the one to give birth to Henry? If she had carried a child, a living child, and not the horribly small blue thing that came out of her hostile womb, conceived in shame and disgrace in the bed of an old man she did not love? She watched as Snow's eyes left hers to focus again on her baby, she heard her cooing him in a low and tender voice and grey sadness became a raw wound. Was this how her mother would have looked if she had had her heart in her chest when she gave birth to her daughter?

Snow raised her head again and grinned broadly at her, and Regina offered a tight and tense smile of her own, chasing all the shadows from her eyes. Neither time nor place to wallow in self-pity. The baby blabbered merrily and Snow laughed.

"Well, the young prince seems quite all right, considering."

Snow shifted the baby slightly on her bosom, bringing him close to her heart, holding him tight, as if sheltering him against the reminder that he had been ripped from her very arms not one hour ago.

"He had his family to protect him."

Snow was looking right at her and Regina smirked. Could the girl (she was a grown woman now, twice a mother, and yet Regina so often thought of her as "the girl", she doubted she would ever see her otherwise) be any more obvious, any more needy? But she had to admit she was touched. Touched and irritated, as she always was when it came to Snow White.

David let go of his wife and stood up next to her, giving his son a kiss on the forehead and stroking Snow's cheek before saying:

"I'll be just outside in the waiting room, all right?"

Snow nodded and he straightened up, looking at Regina with a lopsided smile that was both soft and amused.

"I'll let you two girls to talk."

She was tempted to snarl at him, but settled on merely rolling her eyes. He had a way to quickly get under her skin that was a bit vexing to be honest and she couldn't help responding childishly to his own boyish antics (it had even became a sport of some sort in the Enchanted Forest, when she wasn't sparring with Robin she settled on David and she suspected him to take as much pleasure in annoying her as she did in annoying him).

But Regina was more worried than annoyed at the moment, and while David walked out of the room she turned to Snow with a question on her lips, that the other woman allowed her no time to ask. She wedged the baby against her chest with one arm and, her other hand freed, she grabbed one of Regina's that was casually resting on the edge of the bed, and held on tightly.

"Thank you, Regina. For what you did today, for saving my child, for saving all of us... thank you."

More moved than she would ever admit, Regina opened slightly her mouth in surprise, even blushing a little, before clearing her throat and looking away.

"Yes well, let's not get all sappy over it. I did the right thing, for once, that's all."

She pulled her hand back from under Snow's and the new mother let her do it, respecting her boundaries. She knew better now than to push too much. Regina crossed her arms on her stomach, still not fully looking at her, and Snow felt the need to lighten the mood.

"So, light magic, huh? It must have been quite the sight."

"I think I was the most surprised of all."

Snow chuckled heartily and Regina finally managed a full smile.

"I would have loved to see that."

When Snow smiled it was as though the sun was bursting through her lips. She had always been like this, she had kept the same smile, the one of that little girl who could never hide her joy, who could never disguise her feelings, who held nothing back. For once, that thought didn't bring any bitterness. Snow had always loved so wholeheartedly. Why did this love choose her and never falter, she couldn't understand and probably never would.

"I've always known you had her in you. That woman with light in her eyes and in her heart. I'm so glad you finally let her out."

"Snow..."

She sighed. The princess always put too much faith in her, held too much hope, entertained too many expectations and she didn't realise she was so demanding... Regina let her hands rest on the bed again and stared at Snow with a frown.

"What did you want to tell me?"

Snow's confidence flickered and for an instant. She briefly looked sheepish and anxious, but her smile remained as bright as ever. She made a move as if to take Regina's hand again, thought better of it under the warning gaze of the queen, and finally took a deep breath before she began.

"Regina... this baby is alive and in my arms thanks to you. Thanks to your courage and your strength and your incredible resilient heart. And I want... I truly want to give you credit for that."

"You don't owe me anything, Snow."

"But I do! I owe you so much. In the past weeks you did everything you could to keep me and my family safe, and while we were in the Enchanted Forest you backed us up every step of the way, you..."

"...were the more cantankerous bitch of all the realms."

Snow let out an undignified snort and the corners of Regina's mouth quivered softly as if she was about to laugh, too.

"That you were, yet you helped us all the same. So, I want to ask you... I mean, I've thought of a name for the baby. You see, since we dealt with Cora's ghost, and our past, I..."

"What are you doing? Shouldn't you be saving the surprise for the big coronation day or whatever tradition you and your charming prince wish to fulfill?"

"I've discussed this with David, and today he agreed. And you're right, we will have our big cheesy moment with the crowd and you will love to loathe it as you always do, but I thought it would be better to tell you about it first, to... ask your permission."

"My permission? For your baby's name? Why would I care how you call the new Charming? Unless you decide to give him a dreadful name like Eugene or Pubert, in which case I would have to call the social services for the sake of this baby's sanity, I don't see how I'm concerned."

"Because, Regina, I would like to give him the name of a very important person."

Snow paused, and Regina pursed her lips.

"I want to call him Daniel."

The silence that fell upon the room was deafening.

Terrifying.

Snow squirmed in her bed for a few seconds and the baby made a little noise to protest against her restlessness. Regina's face was a blank. Something was twitching nervously in her jaw. Her pulse had died in her throat.

Unable to bear the tension any longer, Snow implored:

"Please. Say something?"

"I don't understand."

Snow gaped at her, eyebrows frowned.

"You don't... what don't you understand?"

"Why... how... how can you do such a thing, are you..."

Regina choked on , took a deep breath, and hissed:

"Are you out of your mind?"

"...I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you, it just seemed... it seemed like a good idea, but it's your choice of course, we have other names..."

"I'm not mad, I... I just don't get it! How do you do this?"

The woman looked more dumbfounded than ever.

"Do what?"

"Believe in me the way you do. Why are you so willing to overlook what I've done to you and... for the love of gods, just because I did something right today doesn't mean that..."

"You saved the life of my child so yes, excuse me but it means everything to me. And it's not just today, Regina. You've been trying to be a better person for a long time now. It might have taken me a while to see it, but now I do. You have helped us, through and through, with Zelena, during the missing year..."

"That was mostly self-serving, dear, I had no intention of letting my sister get the better of me."

"Oh I see. I suppose bringing David back to life was also self-serving."

"_I_ didn't brought him back, that was you and you insufferable optimism."

"But if you hadn't split my heart in two it would never have worked. I don't understand, Regina, why is it so hard to admit to yourself that you did something good?"

"Because I ruined your life! You told me that once, remember? On that ship, in Neverland? Well, you were right. I did ruin your life, I ruined the life of everyone I ever met, so tell me, Snow White, how exactly one or two good deeds will change that fact? Henry might believe anyone can easily go from villain to hero, but I know better. And you do to, you know me, you know what I did. Surely even you cannot be so naïve to..."

"All right, stop this. Stop. Not again, I won't have this conversation with you anymore. We've been at it over and over while we stayed at the castle. I get it. It's hard, it's scary, this change, you don't understand it and you don't accept it yet. You don't know if it's real. Maybe you don't see it for now. But I do. Please, Regina. Don't reject it. Stop fighting it. Don't let that chance slip away. Everything is different now. There is no reason for you to run from what you are anymore. Because you are a good person. And you have people to remind you of that. Today, you have been a hero. You have been my hero. Just like you were all those years ago."

It seemed wrong, in every kind of ways. She didn't have time to process it, she couldn't analyse the intensity of what she was feeling right now, so she held on to her distrust fiercely, with the strength of those who won't suffer to be fooled anymore.

"This... is this your way of making sure I'll stay on the right path? Is this some kind of fail-safe?"

Snow didn't even feigned indignation. She'd had months to understand what went through Regina's head in her darkest hours. She had started to grasp the depth of her self-hatred, and how she expressed it through hurting words.

"Of course not. This is only me, trying to express my gratitude. Allow me. Please?"

Regina bit her lips and remained deep in thought for a little while, gazing steadily at the floor. Finally, with an expression of determination on her face, she gently sat on the bed next to Snow's legs, her eyes challenging her solemnly. When she answered at last in was so soft-spoken Snow had to strained her ears to understand.

"How do you know I'm gonna make it? How can you be so sure that in the end I'll be the woman you all want me to be?"

"Faith. Belief."

There was a strong echo in those words, but no more desperation in Snow's eyes. Only conviction.

Absolute.

"And, Regina? It's not about who others want you to be. It's about who you want to be."

"I don't..."

"You will."

This time, the silence was sweet and easy. Regina looked at Snow, and Snow looked at Regina, and the girl held on, and she insisted, she refused to back down, to let go. Never again. She would give up on her no more. It was so clearly written in her eyes, Regina could read it easily. She exhaled a heavy breath she hadn't known she had been holding and her lips curled into a lovely smile.

"You do like to hear yourself talk, don't you dear?"

Snow, amused, pursed her lips, vivid mimic of one of Regina's most famous expression, but said nothing. She kept on looking steadily at her, and Regina was too tired to fight her any longer. Too tired to fight off the feelings of gratefulness and wonder, of disbelief and sweet heartache.

"All right."

"Really? You're okay with the name?"

"Of course. It's a beautiful name."

The Regina finally, _finally _accepted to look at the baby and her mouth formed an "o" of delighted surprise as she took his little face in, her reaction similar to the one she had years ago upon first seeing Henry, but holding less intensity, less amazement. Snow was looking at her fiercely, almost wildly, as she closely studied every little move she made. She was still looking at Regina when she answered:

"Yes. Yes it is."

Snow gathered the baby into both of her arms and straightened up on the bed, stroking lightly his cheeks and nose. Regina was feeling something very painful but very beautiful burning in her chest as she kept looking at the baby.

"He's a fine boy, Snow."

"Would you like to hold him?"

A quick glance, a fear undisguised, so many doubts remaining still... but Snow chased them all away when she put the child in her arms. She smiled as his blue, unfocused eyes found hers.

"Hello... Daniel."

Her voice had choked on the name but her eyes remained miraculously dry. The baby gurgled and jiggled his little feet and she laughed, shakily. She laid a gentle kiss on his forehead and rocked him against her shoulder. She met Snow's eyes. The other woman had not bothered to hide her tears. Regina sniffed, discreetly, and her eyes were warm and soft when she murmured:

"Thank you."

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**The Enchanted Forest – first month of the missing year**

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Taking back the castle had been so easy.

Too easy, murmured several of them, Grumpy first, as they strolled down the dark and empty corridors.

They had been wary of Regina ever since she had so suspiciously offered to go by herself to lower the protection shield. Her determination to do it alone had awaken a distrust that was never buried in the first place.

"Don't you see", Grumpy had hissed as Regina walked stiffly into the forest, "she doesn't want any witness! She's up to something!"

In that he had been right. But it hadn't involved betraying them.

It wasn't any of them she had planned to hurt.

Snow still had the letter crushed in her hand as she swiftly walked by Charming's side, her feet barely touching the ground and not making any sound.

She had learned to move through the woods with precision and secrecy during her years as a fugitive and be silent as a shadow to escape her enemies.

But, apparently, she still hadn't learned to listen to her instincts.

She had known something was not right when Regina had left them. She could feel it, see it in the other woman's eyes. And yet she did nothing. She had hoped to be wrong.

"_The day we met, I saved your life. Thank you for trying to save mine."_

Two lines? Would it really be all that she left behind? After all they'd been through, she gave her no more than this as a goodbye?

She was seething with anger. She would kill Regina for this.

If she wasn't already dead.

The thought sped her up. She didn't care about traps or ambush anymore. She barely noticed the last two flying monkeys remaining which hadn't fled fast enough with their green mistress and met a funest end impaled on Charming and Mulan's swords. Snow didn't even blink. She charged straight ahead.

She had someone to yell at.

When they reached the courtyard, she barely managed to hold back a cry of relief.

The dark silhouette of the queen was huddled on a corner at the top of the stairs leading to the balcony, while Robin Hood – so that's where he'd disappeared – was leaning on the wall beside her, arms crossed, a worried and puzzled expression on his face.

As she heard them coming Regina stood up and turned around.

"Well, you took your time."

It was the same dry sarcasm, the same deep voice, the same blatant carelessness. But there was something glistening in her eyes. Something frantic she did not like.

"I don't see any tearful faces so I take it you didn't meet any trouble. Good. Now I can go to bed."

Snow didn't have time to protest. In a flash of purple, Regina vanished. She sighed, frustrated, and her eyes met Robin's.

"What happened?"

He held her gaze, unreadable.

"I don't think the encounter with the Wicked Witch turned out as she'd expected. But she isn't harmed."

"Did she..."

He shook his head. He seemed to know what question she had in mind. Which confirmed what she suspected had happened here.

"It's not my place to tell."

He walked away without a smile or a nod (which seemed rude, given her rank and compared to what she knew and guessed of Robin's usual behavior) but she was of no mind to take offense at the moment. As he passed by her, he halted for a second and said, slowly:

"But it might be best if someone went to see her tonight."

She nodded slowly and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Robin."

He smiled then, but it didn't reach his eyes.

When Snow finally found the time to go and knock on Regina's door, it was late. The night was at its darkest, and her feet were sore from running around the castle, trying to make sure everyone was settled, at least for the night. Doc and Grumpy had kept telling her to rest and to leave the task to the dwarfs, she was a queen, she should relieve herself of the most bothersome aspects of ruling on the lesser subjects, but she had straight laughed in their face and told them that the day she would stop to fret and worry over her people's comfort would be the day she would cease to be a good queen. Plus, but she didn't tell them that, it was her way of making amends for the times she failed them during her war against the Evil Queen, when her obsession with Regina and winning had made her oblivious of the country's suffering.

They were past that, now, thank gods.

But a new threat had arisen, and her heart was already bleeding for the casualties that were bound to happen. For when the mighty clash, they don't care about the earth they burn, or the bodies they trample.

Regina wasn't answering her door. A rational part of Snow's brain could understand this. It was past three in the morning, they'd had a big day, with the walking and the planning and then Regina must have used a lot of magic to destroy that powerful shield, and she had faced up on her own that mysterious Wicked Witch... she was probably tired. Asleep.

And another part, the part that had been screaming endlessly inside her since she read that letter, the part that was both gut and heart rather than brain was worrying her again.

She called and called and knocked, but all remained silent, and she was suddenly overcome by memories of her youth, of calling and begging and pouting behind a closed door, not understanding why her new mother would never let her in.

She took a deep breath. She had to try something else.

With a sudden inspiration she turned her heels and rushed down the stairs to reach the garden.

She just remembered Regina's room had a balcony.

She hadn't climbed anything for a while now, but she was still confident in her abilities. There wasn't a tree in the Enchanted Forest she had not thus conquered.

Her excitement vanished when she entered the Queen's Garden.

It was as beautiful as she remembered.

There wasn't much flowers, no pompous statues, no pretty little brooks by which side lovely blue birds came to sing.

Yet, Snow had always loved the place, even when her unrefined taste as a little girl who only admired pink gowns and bright ribbons had not allowed her to understand the appeal it held for her.

The garden's style was quite unlike the outrageous sense of fashion Regina had shown as the Evil Queen. It was plain, and soberly wild where her lawns met the edge of the woods. It was a maze of swift archways and stony paths, of somber trees and shapely shrubs. Crows came to bathe themselves in the rock pools housing golden carps, and magpies sheltered their stolen treasures at the foot of her white birches. The whole place held the frailty and purity of a winter garden. Even in the heat of summer, an eerie charm always lingered on the stones, on the trees, and everything stood perfectly still, its beauty ever-lasting, as if frozen by the heavy kiss of invisible snow falls.

Sitting at the foot of her dear apple tree, cloaked in loneliness and moonlight, was Regina.

She didn't flinch when Snow silently approached her, she didn't turn her head, she didn't acknowledge her presence in any way.

Yet she was the first to speak.

"When I said I was going to bed, I clearly didn't mean it as an invitation."

Snow smiled briefly at the lazy jibe, and took her time to examine the apple tree before she answered anything. It was strong and vibrant, and she eyed its fruits with some trepidation. They looked like shapely, tiny angry fists, glowing red in the dark. She noticed the old scars on the trunk and smiled inwardly, remembering where they came from, remembering Mary Margaret's shocked reaction when she had learned what Emma had done to the Mayor's beloved apple tree. The thought of Emma chased that particular memory away and she held no desire to smile anymore. She put her hand on the resilient tree and felt soothed by the caress of its rough skin.

"I've read your letter."

She had tried to keep her tone neutral but knew she had failed. Anger and anguish had seeped out all the same. She turned her head towards Regina who still hadn't budged.

"Yes, what of it?"

The tone was almost bored, but Snow felt the edge behind the words.

"You really were going to do this?"

The queen shifted slightly.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Oh I think you do!"

There was no more caution. No more wish to spare Regina's feelings any longer. There was only her own hurt and betrayal and desperate fear, the depth of which frightened her.

She had never realized she cared so much about Regina until several circumstances occurred where she had been about to lose her.

And every time it had felt like an arrow of ice piercing through her heart.

Livid, Snow went to stand directly in front of the other woman, arms at her hips.

"Two lines, Regina! Only two damn lines! That was your farewell? After all we've been through together, you don't think I deserved more than this from you?"

She distinctly saw Regina's lips curled in a beastly snarl, her teeth flashed white with the moonlight.

"Careful, Snow. I already gave you more than you should have."

"I see."

Snow looked revolted now and when she spoke again, it was with a hard, pained smile.

"I guess it's lucky Robin had been here, since nothing would have been enough to make you think twice about taking your own life."

"That oafish... is that what the thief told you? That he prevented me from..."

Snow waited for Regina to say it aloud, but the other woman merely pursed her lips and kept looking steadfastly at her, showing but a slight annoyance, as if they weren't talking about life and death at four in the morning, but merely of bothersome matters of logistics which held no concern to her whatsoever.

"He didn't tell me anything. I can put two and two together."

"Then review your math. Nothing happened. I chose... I chose to take another path."

"Oh, did you? That's good to know. Well, in any case, should you change your mind again, I hope you won't forget to leave another note. You know, just to be polite."

"Would you cut out the sass, please? It's late, and I'm in no mood."

"Oh, _you_'re in no mood? Damn it, Regina!"

Snow began to pace angrily in front of her, further unnerved by Regina's condescending tone and apathetic composure. The queen followed her steps with an eyebrow raised, unimpressed. When Snow had tired herself enough and finally regained some self-control, she sat down next to Regina, letting herself fall heavily on the low wall circling the apple tree in a protective embrace. When she spoke again her voice was so weary that it sounded old to Regina's ears.

"Can't you understand that I'm angry?"

"Dear, this is the only thing I understand from your tempestuous tantrum."

"Can't you understand why?"

The voice was so small, and so sad, it was scratching at her nerves, already raw with grief, it was making them bleed, drowning her heavy heart in further sorrow and bile. Regina turned her head to look at Snow. That was her mistake. When she was faced with the distraught eyes of the girl, she couldn't pretend she didn't exist anymore. Regina sighed quietly, defeated.

"I didn't try to kill myself. I was making a sleeping curse."

She was like that young and lonely queen from years ago snapping testily at the cheerful fairy who only wanted to help : _"I didn't jump, I fell!"_

But of course, Snow wasn't buying any of that. Worse, her temper seemed further fueled by the confession and for a moment Regina was worried the other woman was going to be sick or implode. She exploded instead, and whispered in a chilling tone of barely contained rage:

"A sleeping curse?"

Regina swallowed with difficulty and remained silent. She was feeling both very foolish and very guilty at the same time. In the context, with Snow by her side, sitting under a tree full of apples, it almost seemed a joke.

A very cruel one.

"You were going put yourself through the same hell you put me in? 'A fate worse than death', that's what you told me. That's what you forced on me. And you think it matters less because it wasn't true suicide?"

Snow laughed dryly, an empty sound that was, strangely, harder to hear than the pep talks and virtuous discourses the princess was so fond of (_queen_, she had to remember, _the girl is a queen, now_, but if she hadn't been able to call her anything but a girl in her head when she was now a woman grown, she would never be able to think of her as a queen rather than a princess).

"You gave no thought about this at all, did you?"

"I never think before I act, dear, I believed we've already established that it's one of my nasty habits. But you're wrong. I had thought about this. I knew exactly what I was doing. Henry was supposed to wake me up, you see?"

Her voice had slightly cracked on the last part, and Snow had to bite her lips to prevent her from adding any other sharp remark. Not that she didn't want to, but the pain pouring through just the one name spoken aloud was so deep it overwhelmed her and bring out her own suffering.

They were warriors, Regina and her, always at odds, yet always connected, but the last battle in which they had fought side by side for the first time had left them worn out and bloodless, with no more strength to pick up the sword again, no more will to fight each other. They were watching the deserted battlefield, looking for signs of life after the rain had washed the corpses clean.

"That was very unlikely, though."

Regina smiled knowingly. She was one of the only woman Snow knew who could have tears in her smile but never in her eyes, if she wished.

"I didn't mind. I would have gladly endured the endless torments of the curse with the thought that if I ever escaped it would be to see the smiling face of my son."

"Regina... I'm sorry but you really don't know what you're talking about. You never were under the sleeping curse. I was. Henry was."

The reminder of her most shameful moment, of her biggest failure as a mother came to bite her like a whip. Regina's lips fell open and for a moment she seemed to choke on the air as if she failed to remember how to breathe properly. Snow let her no chance to recover and pushed deeper.

"I have regrets. I made mistakes in my life. Sometimes I failed, and it was my fault, and I feel guilty. I have suffered. Pain is no stranger to me. When I was under the sleeping curse, all of this came back, and it was agony."

Gently, Snow put her hand on Regina's knee and squeezed as a gesture of comfort.

"You, Regina? With everything you've been through and all the evil you've done? You would never have survived. You would have gone mad."

Regina jerked her leg away and stood up. Snow thought she was going to burst in angry retorts but her voice was calm when she spoke.

"You underestimate me, dear."

Snow nodded her head, even though Regina couldn't see her with her back turned, and crossed her arms.

"Why didn't you go through with it?"

"My... The Wicked Witch. She took it. The curse. And let's say... she gave me a motivation to go on."

Go on. That's all she ever did. Even when she was at the very edge of death, even when she thought that all she wanted was to quit... some trick of fate, or some inner force she knew nothing about kept saving her. Destiny had always been a very cruel cat to her, and she an unlucky mouse in its paws.

"What happened with the Witch? Do you know what she wants?"

"Oh yes, I know what she wants."

She turned to face Snow again.

"To destroy me, of course."

While Snow's brow furrowed and her mouth fell open in silent interrogation, Regina's features hardened, chiselled by the fading light of the moon and the stars often darkened by passing clouds.

"But I'll take her down first."

Snow smiled almost tenderly (Regina's murderous talk had become very familiar to her in a sick and twisted way) and stood up also.

"Care for a walk? Then you can tell me about this new threat."

"It really keeps coming, doesn't it?"

* * *

While they wandered lazily through the garden, Regina told her in brief and matter-of-fact words what had taken place between her and the Witch – her sister, or so she claimed.

"And you believe her?"

Regina scowled.

"I wouldn't put it beyond mother to have hidden something like that from me."

It was the only think she agreed to say on the subject, and Snow knew that Regina _did _believe this... Zelena to be her sister, and that it was another wound only adding to the impressive collection she already had.

As they passed the knobbly willow reigning over the rapids they came across the Sparkling Waterfall. That's how Snow had called it, because the water shone brightly, night and day, due to the silver ore on which the water ran. She had loved to come here as a child, Regina, in one of her good day, had told her the waterfall was inhabited by thousand of fairies and that they made the water gleam by dancing in the flow and shaking their long silvery hair.

Snow hummed happily at this soothing sight and lingered for a while on the riverbank.

"Do you remember when my father gave you this garden?"

She had meant this conversation to be about sharing happy childhood memories, but when Regina's cold, distant voice echoed behind her she remembered that Regina held no fondness for the time she had spent in the castle.

"Yes. It was his engagement gift. How very nice of him."

Snow could have looked for a hint of sarcasm in the queen's voice.

There wasn't any.

"I didn't think so at the time. I was angry at him."

Regina's detachement turned into mild surprise at Snow's words. The princess lowered herself on the ground and let the tips of her fingers to brush against the water, hissing at the cold and biting sensation.

"When he gave it to you, it was so ugly! Only rocks and weeds. I thought it wasn't a very good gift."

In truth, she had been appalled. How could he offer mean rocks to his beautiful bride, her wonderful step-mother? Rocks aren't even pretty! You can't do anything with rocks! There wasn't even a flower here! And you're supposed to give flowers to a woman _you love_, right?

But newlywed Regina had smiled politely and curtsied with an irresistible grace Snow doubted she could ever master. _Thank you, your Majesty. I shall make good use of this gift._

And she had.

"It's truly wonderful though now, isn't it?"

Regina stared at her for a few moments, her gaze unfathomable. Then she opened her mouth to speak, and closed it right away, frowning. She sharply turned around and peered at the bushes.

"Who's there?"

Snow slowly rose and her hands went by instinct to her belt, where she hid her dagger. She saw Regina's fingers flex and stretch, as if eager to conjure her usual fire ball.

"Show yourself this instant or I'll burn down this place!"

A tiny figure gushed out of his hideout.

"Don't please!"

It was a child. Snow relaxed her arms and moved forward to have a better look.

"It's Robin's son!"

The boy was wearing a long white nightshirt that went past his knees (it probably belonged to his father, since the sleeves were so long you could tie several knots in them before reaching the hands), his curly hair was mussed up and he looked both excited and frightened. He was barefoot in the wet grass. Snow was about to go and pick him up, but Regina stopped her, and asked the boy in a voice that wasn't too unkind:

"What are you doing here out of bed, Roland?"

The boy simply looked at her and remained silent. She didn't know whether he was afraid or refused to talk. Snow crouched down and smiled reassuringly.

"It's all right, Roland. You can tell us. Are you lost?"

Roland scoffed.

"I am not lost!"

He crossed his arms on his small chest, his posture defiant and his chin raised up. Regina chuckled.

"Your charms don't seem to work on that one, dear Snow."

A bit vexed, the princess nudged her arm sharply.

"Go ahead then! Work your magic."

Regina rolled her eyes at the double entendre and towered over Roland as she asked in a much less friendly voice (because it was four in the morning and she had no patience whatsoever and no desire to be in the little boy's presence more than in was necessary because the absence of her own son hurt so damn much):

"If you're not lost, then why don't you go back to your bed, child?"

"I'm not lost. I just don't remember where the bed is."

He was being a smart ass, but she saw his chin wobble and she guessed he was actually on the verge of tears, but was too proud, even at such a small age, to cry in front of strangers.

Regina looked pointedly at Snow who nodded and held out her hand to Roland.

"Well you're lucky, because I happen to remember the way, and it's not far from my own bed! We can head back together, if that's all right with you, mister Roland."

He shook his head eagerly and took Snow's hand, but kept looking at the queen. He murmured something through his teeth, and even as she strained her ears Regina couldn't understand.

"Speak up, boy! It's not polite to mumble."

Roland straightened up and took a deep breath.

"I wanted to say thank you for the monkey."

Regina gaped. Is that why he had come all the way down here? To thank her? Embarrassed, she fidgeted with her hands until she remembered her upbringing and put them away behind her back, her cheeks pink, her belly strangely warm.

"It's very nice of you, Roland. I hope you like your toy."

He grinned broadly and she wanted to laugh and to cry as she saw his missing tooth. So he was at that age. When children are impossibly cute. It would be hard to stay away from him... she curtsied elegantly and Roland laughed, hiding his face in Snow's cloak but peeping back at her. Snow had watched their antics with a sour-sweet smile, a hand on her heart (gods, the girl was so _dramatic_) and as she saw Roland yawn she gently pushed him back to the castle.

"Can you wait for me at the door, Roland? I just have to say goodnight to Regina, then I'll be right with you."

The boy nodded, then turned back to Regina.

"'night, Rigina!"

He trotted happily back to the castle and Snow stifled a laugh while Regina sniffled disdainfully.

"As irritating as his father."

"As cute as his father you mean."

"Don't you start."

That time, Snow truly laughed and Regina turned her head away to hide her own smile. Then she felt the other woman take her hand and she looked at her, cautious.

"I'll see you in the morning. Right?"

Snow was searching her face anxiously, trying to see if she could find any hints of what was going on in Regina's mind, trying to find the truth... Reina sighed and briefly pressed Snow's fingers with her own before sliding away, again.

"Yes, of course. Apparently, I'm not so easy to kill. Even when I try to do it myself I fail one way or another."

The worry was too fresh to smile at the banter so Snow nodded shakily and turned abruptly away. Regina suspected her to be hiding her tears. She became sure of it when the girl spoke with a thick voice:

"You're the only family I have left."

Then she hurried away. Regina let her. She didn't know how to respond to this.

Much, much later, when Snow had put Roland to bed (and successfully avoided waking too many Merry Men) and settled down on her own, she finally allowed herself to relax, and she snuggled as close to David's warm body as possible. But sleep eluded her that night, and when she did slumbered she would have strange dreams filled with dark and lonely silhouettes wandering on deserted moors and snowy lands, of sad songs of woe vanishing in the wind, of felled apple trees bleeding juicy tears of blood.

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* * *

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**And on that note...**

**Next one will be filled with OQ fluff, I promise ;)**

**Don't forget to leave a review, dearies ! Especially if you've liked this bit, you will make my day... **


	3. Flashback 2

**I know guys. I'm sorry for being late, but you know, life happened, and it had been hectic. But to make it up to you, here's the longest chapter yet !**

**Thank you so much for the new reviews – I could get used to that, it feels really nice.**

**This is the last chapter with the AU scenes from the finale; next one, the adventure truly begins.**

**Also for the sake of OQ fluff and sexy times let's pretend that the lovely scene by the fire happened on the evening after they defeated Zelena, and not the next day at lunchtime, shall we?**

**Warning: it gets a bit spicy in there somewhere between our lovely thief and loveliest queen.**

.

.

.

It had started as the most perfect day. She didn't know such things existed still. A perfect day. At least, not for her. No perfection allowed for the Evil Queen, the fairest but most flawed of them all. And yet if this wasn't perfection she didn't know what was. She had woken up with a smile on her lips, safe and sated, naked in the strong and soft arms of Robin, and nothing in her life after Henry got the storybook had felt more domestic and yet so extraordinary.

Or simply right.

"What do you want to do today?"

He was nuzzling her neck and blowing kisses on her skin with burning lips and concentration was hard to find, both for keeping her eyes open and remembering how to talk. She hummed vaguely and bent her head to give him better access. She felt the warmth of his smile imprint itself on her flesh.

"Tell me... What would you like to do? Where do you want to go?"

When she answered her voice was so deep and thick she was sure she sounded like a snuffly crow.

"How about we stay right here, say for the next ten years or so? Then you can ask me again and I might be willing to go... all the way from here to the couch."

He chuckled, her skin vibrated and she sighed deeply. She really wanted nothing more in the world right now than to melt in his embrace and thaw under his touch and bask in the scent of forest and charcoal (they got a bit too close to the fireplace last night) and gods, why did he insist on talking when she definitely wanted his mouth to be put to a better use?

"I am not jesting, milady. This is your opportunity to be _wild. _Take it. I want today to be special for you."

He was playful and eager and foolish and vibrant and so very drunk on love (and possibly still on wine). Perhaps he was a bit silly, and a bit tiring as well. She didn't want to get out of bed, no more than she wanted to get out of his arms. She had been running around for days and actively exerting herself – last night included, though it had been a more pleasant kind of exercise. So yes, he was a dear, so determined to make sure that her every need, desire or whish should be well taken care of today, but she just wanted to shut his mouth with a searing kiss and disappear with him under the covers for all eternity, the outside world be damned. That this thought made her feel more daring and more adventurous than she had ever been, considering she barely blinked an eye when facing up her own death, was really telling of how she had lived her life until now. Normalcy and quietness were the most thrilling things in the world for her, because she had been able to enjoy them only a few times, if ever.

But Robin was a man who had chosen to give up on a privileged life and a comfortable social status while he went and lived in the woods with a bunch of outlaws, quite determined to keep on pestering the aristocracy for the rest of his days. Even if he was glad to step out of the part of the heroic thief from time to time, she could tell his general idea of a fun and carefree day was greatly far from her own. He sought for thrills when she wished for peace, asked for wildness when she longed after comfort. He thought the only life worth living was a one of dares and dangers, she felt she had lived enough adventures to fill a hundred lives.

They were still lightly out of tune, practicing their scales, learning the notes. It had been too long for both of them, the relationship, the commitment, they were akward, not quite sure to remember how to be in harmony with someone (and, for herself, not quite sure of having ever actually experienced it), but they were willing to try, and compromise. Well, at least _he _was ready to compromise and she liked to pretend she wasn't.

She turned around to look at him, lightly bumping his nose with hers, (he was closer than she thought), and she frowned and squinted at him as if he were the most aggravating man in the universe. In truth, however, she found him quite endearing. Even though she was taken aback by his boyish enthusiasm (she had not been around such since Henry's younger years), she had to admit she felt strangely stimulated by it.

"My, my... had I known you would be so anxious to please me _still_ after we had sex I wouldn't have hold it off to until I had my heart back..."

He tickled her side as a gentle punishment for making fun of him and she slapped his hand away with a brief, shrill laugh and a squirm which did not befit a queen.

"I rather do hope I managed to please you while we were actually doing it."

"That you did. Immensely."

He offered her a boasting smirk and she slapped him again.

"Don't look so damn pleased with yourself, thief."

This word that had been thrown with such hateful contempt in the Enchanted Forest was now whispered almost fervently, as the hand that had slapped began to caress. Robin kissed her on the nose, tender all over again.

"I'm glad you waited. Last night was all the more amazing for it. It was perfect."

To hell with this man and his uncanny ability to bring happy tears to her eyes. He was just so cheesy sometimes, she ought to have been appalled, to tease him about those big words of his and his grand romantic gestures (_"Use mine for the both of us"_), but there was a strange appeal to this taste of classical romance that brought back bitter-sweet memories of her youth.

And thankfully Robin had more fulfilling ways than flirty words to show his interest in her.

"Well, you don't need to thank me for it, you haven't been the only one to enjoy this. As you've probably heard."

He laughed and shook his head, nipped her neck just below her ear. She shivered. She did express herself rather loudly last night. She had never been one to be burdened by prudery or correctness, even as a child; it had repeatedly drove her mother mad. Shyness, yes, she'd had plenty of that; but she never acted coy.

"Even though I'm thrilled and beyond grateful that the queen allowed me into her bed..."

"I believe it actually started on the rug, dear, but do go on."

"...it's not my intent to thank you, well, only for that."

"Why are you so annoyingly trying to get me out of bed, then?"

"I just think that, after everything you've been through, and everything you've done for all of us, you ought to have some time of leisure. Henry was right, you're quite the hero now. I hate to break it to you, your majesty, because I know how much you resent it, but you did save an awful lot of people yesterday."

"Yes, so I've heard."

"And they're all very grateful."

"Are they, now?"

"Worse: it seems that most of them even want to thank you for it."

"How repulsive. Obviously no good deed does go unpunished."

"They were thinking of throwing you a party..."

"If they dare I'll put their heads on my picket fence."

"...and I've even heard talks of a statue erected in your honor."

"Will you stop being silly? Nobody likes a liar and a thief."

He chuckled and she stared at him, unfazed.

"Still, they truly _are _grateful, Regina. Except for Grumpy. He still rages against you every chance he gets."

"Finally, a sensible man after my own heart. Or... dwarf."

They laughed together, their breath warming each other's cheek. Robin raised the hand resting on her hip and started to stroke her hair, lazily, making the locks twirl and curl around his fingers. They felt like cold flames gently licking his skin. He always had a thing for those hair. It had begun in the Enchanted Forest, actually, and Regina had quickly caught him staring. And she had noticed that everytime she would run her hand trough her long soft curls he would subconsciously (but obviously) wet his lips. Once she had seen him doing it she could never ignore it, and she had, once or twice, played with her hair on purpose just for the thrill of receiving his silent appraisal of her charms (and indeed, each time, his tongue would come out and moisten his lips), but she had quickly stopped because being witness to his arousal had started to do things to _her_.

"Well then, since you won't let anybody acknowledge you, or thank you, or reward you, you should at least reward yourself. You made it possible for this day and all days after that to occur. Take it as a gift. You earned it. You've been wonderfully brave and strong. For once in your life, just enjoy yourself. Enjoy what you've won."

Because you never did, he silently implied, and she knew it was true. Never fully, never for long. She had never truly won until yesterday. And still, the victory had a bitter taste when she thought she'd had yet again to hurt a family member to get what she wanted (and hurt was a euphemism, seeing how she had tried to kill her mother so she wouldn't interfere with her revenge, and then actually killed her father to obtain it). But she couldn't tell him that. True, they had opened up to each other last night, and during the year she had revealed parts of herself she had always wished to conceal – frightened, insecure, and so dark – however she certainly was not ready to tell him everything there was to know about her past. Not ever, not if she wanted him to be able to sleep at night, and preferably with her. So she focused on his kindness instead of listening to those self-guessing and spiteful voices in her head.

"You shouldn't say so soon all those nice things about me or you won't have anything left to say in a few days.."

"I will never run out of nice things to say about you."

She could do nothing but kiss him.

She began very gently, almost chastely, with little pecks on his cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, lips, lips and more lips, all the while trying to soothe the delicious ache in her heart he had brought up. Then he opened his mouth and she felt his tongue slide against her lips and force them to part and when his taste filled her she was lost and found and lost again, delightfully so and she could not stop. It was Robin who gathered enough self-control to interrupt them before they tried to repeat the feats of last night. To succeed, he had to insert his fingers between their hungry lips, and then lovingly turn her head away while he finished on her neck with a sloppy kiss that made her laugh or moan, she wasn't sure which.

"If I wasn't so tired, this could be terrifying."

"This?"

He was breathing in her hair now and she let her fingers wander on his chest and stomach with a languid ease.

"This. This morning. Being here, with you. I'm not... (he took her ear lobe between his lips and sucked hard. She gasped.) I'm really not good at it."

"Could have fooled me."

She smiled. His caresses ceased and he looked into her eyes, taking her hands in his.

"It's gonna be all right, you know?"

He believed it. He believed it with his whole soul. She could see it in his eyes. It was like yesterday, when she had told him about the lion tattoo. It had not been the mind-blowing revelation she thought it would be and was so afraid of. He hadn't seemed daunted in the slightest. Calm and collected, he had said that it only confirmed what he already thought: something bound them to each other, whether it was fate, or plain mutual attraction, or kindred souls recognizing each other for what they were, it didn't matter, he just wanted to explore it as it went, and even as he felt he was in it for a long run, he didn't mind at all. He did not care much for magic or prophecy, he had added with a smirk, but he cared deeply for what he was feeling... and what he hoped she was feeling to. Watching him now, she was seeing the same blinding trust, he trusted life so much not to screw this up it would have been almost laughable if it hadn't been so impressive, with everything

he had been through. But maybe they weren't so different.

She was taking the same leap of faith.

But she jumped from further back.

"I want it to."

"And so it shall, milady. Remember, you're the ruler here. Speaking of which... what did you decide? What do you want to do today?"

She rolled her eyes. He would never give this up, would he? After a brief moment of reflexion, she cupped his cheeks with her hands and forced herself to look him in the eyes once again. She quietly said, with an undecisive smile but a firm resolve:

"To be with my son."

Right here, that was when she knew she couldn't have chosen a better man for her second chance at happiness than Robin. He didn't look disappointed in the slightest, he didn't even flinch.

"Of course", he simply said.

She rewarded him with yet another kiss. He knew her already well enough to understand that her wish was and always would be to do what Henry wanted to do. There was no happiness allowed or even possible for her unless Henry was a major part of it. The last year in the Enchanted Forest had amply proved it to the both of them (not that she had needed the proof, she always knew what living without Henry in her life would be like because she had always dread it, even more so during the last years before the curse broke). She was probably thwarting all his plans for the day but Robin could not hold it against her because he was a father too and he knew better. This was one of the reason this... thing of them was working so well. Just like her, he was a single father and he knew what it meant to be alone raising a child and he, too, had always put that child first because he had nobody else who was worth so much in his life. They understood one another completely on this matter. Which is why she knew what to say to soften the blow while he was elegantly bracing himself for what he thought was a rejection on her part.

"You should bring Roland with us. I'm sure Henry would like to meet him."

He beamed at her and she wondered. When had it become so easy to please someone? When had she learned to do that so effortlessly? His whole face was transfigured by his smile at the mention of his son, and she was struck by how handsome he truly was, which could sometimes be forgotten because his beauty was discreet, hidden, like that of a rock. Barely noticed, it shone in a sure and quiet way and was not bursting dramatically every time she looked at him. She stroked his cheeks in a swift gesture. Yes, there was no happiness to be pursued without Henry by her side, but she had a taste now of what it meant to be happy with Robin too and it was a taste she enjoyed very much. She had no intention of letting go of him any time soon.

"Very well then. We should probably... do you have one of those ingenious water cube they call a shower?"

She snorted, unmerciful, and the disgracious sound coming from her mouth was so contrary to her usual regal poise that Robin stared at her, disbelieving.

"Well, that explains it."

"Explains what?"

"How you managed to smell so good while living in the woods for days with nothing but freezing brooks at your disposal. Tell me, who introduced you to the wonders of modernity?"

"Well... Granny did. She was quite sensitive about our, ah, body odors when we went to her tavern, I mean, diner. So she let us use her bathrooms. Or, rather, she forced us to. I believe her exacts words were along the line of "and you'd better get quickly used to running water, outlaws, or I'll drag your smelling arses out of my diner myself." Needless to say, we learned fast. As long as we didn't use her hot water, it was for free. "

Regina winced and scrunched up her nose in sympathy.

"She's a fierce business woman."

"I like her. She has a sharp tongue, and a good heart. Reminds me of someone I know..."

"I plead guilty for the sharp tongue."

She wiggled her eyebrows, teasing, and it was _just wait until I actually have my heart back..._ all over again and he mouthed "careful" while she chuckled shamelessly. She enlocked his neck in her arms and met his eyes with a self-satisfied grin.

"I must say, thief, that I'm impressed. You mastered the skill of corporal hygien much more rapidly than the pirate."

"His leather does smell foul, doesn't it?"

They sniggered and giggled and soon they were roaring with laughter and it was delightful to feel so carefree and relaxed and silly and maybe once, in her youth, maybe once, with Henry, it had been so easy, maybe then she had felt safe enough to let go, but it was far away, almost another lifetime, and since then she had built such thick walls around the dangerous softness in her heart, but she and Robin were removing them stone by stone, thanks to him she did things she had not done in a very long time, if ever, and she was unwilling to let doubts and longings and old hurts creep slowly in her mind while she was in such a vulnerable state so she kissed him again. And touched him. And teased him. And stroked him. His warm body kept the memories at bay, it was her anchor in the here and now, in this moment of happiness and she couldn't have enough of it, of him.

She turned them around and stradled his hips, grinding into him and once again, he barely managed to stop them from going further, even if stopping was a torture.

"If we keep on doing this we won't get out of bed before noon. Not that I'm complaining, but..."

He inhaled sharply when she trailed her nails along his torso.

"And what about it?"

"We meet the others at Granny's, remember? We do have a victory and a newborn prince to celebrate..."

"Oh, yes, how boring..."

She pecked his lips. He smiled.

"If you want to see Henry and make plans with him for the rest of the day before... ah..."

She bit his ear. He tensed.

"...we still have many things to do..."

She nipped his throat. He chuckled.

"...and I thought you promised to teach me how to make grilled toasts at breakfast?"

She licked his nipples, the right, then the left. He hissed and sighed and shivered and moaned as she licked her way further down his chest, further down, until she reached his hipbones and there she nibbled his skin leaving reddening little marks along the way and he gave up all pretense of restraining himself or preventing her from going on. But she did halt and he began to protest as she raised her head and flashed him a truly evil smile.

"I was thinking more of eating breakfast in bed today..."

Without warning, she grabbed him. He was hard already. He choked and struggled to keep his tone playful.

"From all the sins I've heard you be accused of, I don't remember cannibalism to be one of them..."

"Just you wait and I'll make cannibalism look so enticing to you it will become a virtue."

With a wicked smirk, she lowered her head and opened her mouth, and when she began to suck he closed his eyes and stopped breathing.

In the end, they did succeed in getting ready before noon, but they had to skip the cooking lesson and the real breakfast altogether because of several others hindrances, such as showering together to save time (it didn't and the steam wasn't entirely due to the scalding hot water Robin was very glad to discover) or helping each other dress, one starting to remove clothes from the other as they were put on, until Regina's phone reminded them that another world existed beside their own two skins and she assured David she was coming over to get Henry who wanted to go and see Robin's camp before lunch while she silently slapped Robin's hands away as he tried once again to slide them under her dress.

.

.

.

"Henry, this isn't the time or place."

"I think it is."

"No, it's not."

Then Emma was walking out the door and Regina felt an ugly need rise in herself to tear the place apart in a fit of rage (_after all she's done, after all they've been through, how dares she even think of taking her son away from her_) but the warmth of Robin's hand settled in the middle of her back and the troubled look in Henry's eyes helped to rein in her darker impulses.

"I'll talk to her."

She turned her head towards Hook, her lips curled up in a distasteful sneer, and hissed out:

"I don't think so, pirate. This doesn't concern you. It's _my _son. _I_'ll talk to her."

Hook knew better than to insist when the queen had murder in her eyes. He bowed in a sarcastic manner that was insufferable for a monarch used to have her orders obeyed with fear. She didn't miss either the apologetic look Henry gave to the pirate, and it only infuriated her further. Her son had been spending way too much time with this cartoonish rascal and she had every intention to put an end to that. Gods knew what dreadful habits Hook had already instilled in him.

"Wait. Take this. It might help her remember where she belongs."

She took the book with a tense smile, Henry's hopeful eyes forbidding her to do otherwise. She doubted very much the damn fairy-tale book would be of any help to the down-to-earth Emma, who since this adventure with Zelena had begun had acted as if she had had enough of magical dealings for a lifetime (and Regina couldn't blame her for that, at least). But now wasn't the time to diminish Henry's beliefs when he just got them back. She gently pushed Robin's arm away with a tender squeeze before catching Hook's eyes and nodding for him to follow her outside. He did, eyebrows raised in surprise and his usual obnoxious smirk on his lips.

As soon as they passed the door she gripped him by the collar of his leather jacket.

"Now you listen to me very carefully, pirate. You can pursue Miss Swan all you want but you will stay the hell away from my son, is that clear? She doesn't get to make all the decisions regarding Henry's well-being by herself anymore, and I certainly don't agree to you as a baby-sitter."

She dropped her voice an octave lower, sounding more than ever like the Evil Queen she once was, all threats and bites, her words laced with venom instead of the velvet her rich tone falsely promised.

"I haven't forgotten how you left me to be tortured by those raving lunatics, Hook."

He brushed her hand off, impatiently.

"Shall I remind you that you had tried to have me killed merely minutes before I did that?"

"A pity I didn't succeed."

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, a strange, almost flirty smile on his lips.

"For all your new-found light magic, you're still a nasty bitch, aren't you, your majesty?"

She had to stand on tip-toe as she brought her face closer to his own and practically purred against his mouth:

"Indeed."

That was how they did it. They, the villains. When they fought for dominance, it had to be on every level. This was why she had always been so sexually aggressive. When the whole world is your enemy you mustn't neglect any kind of weapon, and that one is universal.

He chuckled while she pushed him away, and in a flash he reverted to the morally dubious man he had never ceased to be. But she had no more concern for him. She had carried out her warning, and she now had more important matters to settle, and perhaps other threats to make if Emma refused to listen to reason. She walked away briskly and spat without looking back:

"You stay away from my son, Hook or you _will_ regret it."

.

.

.

When she found Emma, the blonde was sitting cross-legged on the bench – their bench, she thought with a pang of pain, the one she and Henry had seated upon a hundred times before, sharing a snack or feeding the ducks from afar –, head bowed down and shoulders hunched. Once again, Regina had to wonder at the resemblance between mother and son, and it did nothing to appease her fear nor her hurt. Henry and Emma didn't share much in terms of physical similarities, but their mannerisms were sometimes so alike it unsettled her. She had raised Henry for ten years, she had been his sole role-model for the key years of his life, and then this _stranger_ had come and it seemed he had picked up more from Emma in a few months than he ever did from his adoptive mother. The unfairness of it all was bitter in her mouth, and she struggled to keep her jealousy at bay.

"I thought I'd been pretty clear, I don't wanna talk about this, okay?"

Emma hadn't even raised her head as she'd heard her approaching. She looked just like a brooding teenager in that moment and Regina felt old habits of handling Henry's foulest moods reawaken, annoyance at his stubborness, her impatience growing stronger at every defiance.

"And I think you know me better than that, dear. Did you really believe I would let this go?"

Emma finally raised her head and clenched her jaw, but still avoided her gaze.

"I'm sorry, but this is my business."

"I'm sorry, but it's ours. We are done disputing parental rights, Miss Swan, Henry is as much your son as he is mine, this is not something that either of us can object now. You don't get to make the decisions by yourself any more than I do."

"I've made plenty of decisions by myself for a year now since _you_ gave your son away to _me_. In fact, I remember making _all_ the decisions for Henry since he was born, and what I don't remember is you interfering. In those memories there's no one but him and me."

Emma's voice, strained with anger and pain, was shaking slightly and she kept on looking steadily far ahead, as if meeting Regina's eyes would burn her own, as if the mere thought of looking at the mayor's face while she was lashing out at her was terrifying. This was something Regina could understand.

Sometimes it's hard to look in the eye of the person you're trying to hurt.

But she had yet to guess exactly why Emma Swan wanted so desperatly to wound her.

As she silently examined the blonde's huddled up form and her twitching fingers and shifty eyes making her more than ever look like a lost girl, Regina thought she might have a clue.

With a repressed sigh, Regina sat down on the bench, next to Emma, but not too close, and the blonde tensed, but did not move.

They stayed side by side quietly for some time, gazing in an absent-minded way at the misty lake which seemed to lenghten endlessly the grey-blue sky. Regina didn't feel quite so hurried to continue the conversation anymore. She doubted the outcome would be kind to either of them. But she couldn't delay forever. She had a supposedly perfect day to enjoy and she had to make sure her happiness wouldn't be snatched away while she had her back turned on her worries, for once.

"Emma, why are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Being me."

At last, Regina saw something which looked like life in the eyes of Emma Swan, something which went beyond the veil of anxious stupor that had covered everything for days, something that ripped it appart.

Anger.

"I am nothing like you!"

Regina smiled, both sad and wise.

"On the contrary, dear. Do you think I don't recognize that look? That's what I saw every morning in the mirror when you first came here."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"Self-justification."

"What? Because I want him to go back to a good life, where there is no death threats made every two minutes by an insane family member from a fucked-up family tree?"

"Because you're not asking him what he wants."

"He's a kid. He doesn't know..."

"...what is good for him? If you knew just how many times I've repeated it to myself... until I believed it. And believed it so much I pushed him away. And I thought it was for good."

Emma shook her head wildly, her eyes two slides of rage.

"I'm not you. I'm not."

"And yet you're making the same mistake. I wonder if this is a side-effect of you having my memories of raising Henry o if we are just more alike than we ever dared think in the first place."

Emma stared at her with horror.

"Those were _your _memories?"

"Yes. Didn't you guess?"

"I... I suspected... but... _shit._"

Completely lost now, Regina could only watch as Emma got to her feet and began uselessly pacing around, arms alternatively crossed or balancing in distress.

"I can't... I just can't do this I can't..."

"What can't you do? Emma..."

"I can't thank you for what you did. I..."

Defeated, Emma sat down again, head in her hands, her blond locks falling like a curtain, blocking anyone's access to the conflicted emotions on her face.

Regina didn't feel any rage anymore towards the woman. She only felt confusion, and worry and... painful empathy. Emma was struggling so much for her happiness, for her sanity. Had she wanted to, Regina couldn't have distanced herself from that.

"You don't have to. I don't need you to thank me. That's not why I did it."

"But _I _need to thank you. I want to thank you. I just _can't_."

"Why?"

"I don't know! How can you thank someone for something so huge? I mean you basically gave me your life with Henry, and that's like, what matters the most to you? So I'm... I feel like I'm in your debt, somehow, and I don't know how to repay you. And I feel so shitty to have ever doubted you as a mother. I... I know better now. I _felt _it. You did so great, Regina, all on your own and with no clue on how to deal with this... new small human in your life. I..."

"So did you, Emma. Henry looks more happy than he's ever been. So confident."

_So grown_, she wanted to add, he would reach his thirteenth birthday in September and she had missed so much, she tried to remove all hints of jealousy from her tone but it was so hard, because Emma had seen it all, and she had done so much better than her with Henry, minus curse and fantasy weirdness.

"I did good only in my cursed memories. That doesn't count. It wasn't real; it never happened. You're the one who's done it."

Emma doesn't hide her envy at all. It is such a foreign concept. Emma envying _her._

"I read a lot. I've had help. Mostly widow Lucas and the cricket. But in the end, it didn't turn out so well, did it? Henry left me and sought you out. I wasn't a very good mother."

"Who is, anyway? You did what you could with what you had. You made mistakes but you didn't do wrong by him. We all make terrible choices. Look at my parents, throwing their one-hour old baby in a magical tree hoping she would miraculously survive on all her own. If it hadn't been for August I would have died in those woods."

"They did it to protect you. To save you."

"Yeah, and themselves while they were at it. I was quite convenient, their little Savior."

Never had Emma's tone been so bitter. She looked ageless in this instant: angrily young and wearily old. Regina knew she had issues with Snow and Charming's parenting choices (which probably hadn't been eased by the arrival of another baby) but she hadn't known it had been this deep. She thought that if Emma was searching for somebody to blame she should be looking towards her: she had been the one to cast the curse that enticed the two idiots into parting with their daughter.

"That's what this is about. Not me or Henry. It's about your family."

"Henry's my only family. The only one that feels _real_."

"She may be called Snow but I assure you, dear, that your mother is very tangible. Both your parents are. Believe me. Thickness is one of their infamous traits."

The Emma she knew would have scowled or rolled her eyes. The one sitting next to her didn't even acknowledge the barb. She was merely staring into space, eyes moving erratically like she was watching a scene replaying before her sole eyes.

"Henry's the only thing."

(_and I am not about to lose him because he is everything!_)

Regina closed her eyes and swallowed harshly, her throat very dry and her eyes almost wet. Had she been so painful to hear back then, when her desperation had burst out, a helpless echo in an empty cave on a lost island?

"You know that's not true."

"Isn't it?"

Emma turned around so quickly Regina thought she was going to pounce on her for a mad second. But the blonde only grabbed the book that had been resting on Regina's lap since she'd been sitting, the book that Emma had taken great pain not to look at as soon as she'd caught sight of it jammed under the arm of the mayor.

"This was his idea, right? He thinks all the crap that's written in it is gonna show me the light, convince me to stay?"

"I think it had more to do with him believing that it would help you remember who you are. Where you came from."

She absent-mindedly flinched upon saying words that held no meaning for her. Most of them, in Storybrooke, they were proof that identity wasn't forged on where you came from. If anything, your upbringing was most likely to define the choices you were going to made.

And the mistakes you were going to regret.

But who you were? In the end, only yourself could tell. A fact Emma echoed when she burst out:

"Oh, like this is gonna tell me? It's nothing but a bunch of fairy tales for god's sake! And most of them are unreliable truth anyway. There's no place for me in that. I don't see it. I don't want it. And I don't see my family there. I see one dimensional heroes and villains with lives and motivations that have nothing to do with me or the real world."

"It's never that simple, Miss Swan, and you know it."

Emma shrugged, and flickered angrily through the book with an irreverence Regina hoped Henry would never witness (she guessed he wouldn't take well his precious stroybook being so crudely handled), then closed it with a final and somber air. Regina looked at her thoughtfully for a few seconds before voicing her realization in a murmur:

"You did, didn't you?"

"I did what?"

"You stopped seeing us as real people. When you first met us, you couldn't be convinced that you were dealing with individuals who were more than what they seemed. And now it's the reverse. You think we are less than what we are. Less complex, less true, less fleshed out. We did become stories for you when we left for the Enchanted Forest, and we're still no more than stories right now."

Regina didn't specify if the "you" included Henry or not. Her hurt and sadness spoke for themselves.

"That's why you've been pushing everyone away since your return. And why you've been acting like a complete moron lately."

"Right, that will definitely make me stay, you insulting me."

"Oh, you mean like what you've been doing? Throwing my past back in my face any time you felt like it?"

"I said nothing you didn't deserve."

"You said what was easy to say because you were saying it to me. You were looking for a fight and I was the most likely to respond. And you..."

It seemed obvious now. Emma Swan wasn't so difficult to figure out once you had some important keys in hand.

Once she had understood the very dark place the other woman had been trapped in since awaken from her blissful dream of a normal and happy life.

She was unlike any princess. The first ones awoke to love; she awoke to duty and danger.

"You wanted a reason not to thank me. You wanted a reason to take Henry away from me. You were trying to provoke the sleeping dragon again, weren't you, Emma Swan?"

The ugly guilt breaking through the green eyes was all the confession she needed.

"I was trying to be angry at you. I was reminding myself of every bad thing you did and every reason I had not to trust you. I wanted to fool myself into thinking I owed you nothing, so I could leave with a clear conscience, you know?"

Emma was almost pleading, it was really disturbing, almost pleading to be understood and Regina didn't know where her compassion was coming from but there was too much of it and she had to do something to let it out before it broke her from inside.

She took Emma's hands in her own, and the woman looked at her with a surprised awe.

"You don't owe me anything. But you owe it to Henry to stop running."

Emma shook her head and Regina feared for a terrible moment the woman was about to cry (and she had to set the limit at that because she really couldn't share that much with her former nemesis, she wasn't ready enough for the Savior's tears), but Emma pulled herself together with the skill of someone who had concealed distress many times in difficult situations and gently untangled her hands from Regina's, quietly saying:

"I'm sorry. Those things I said. They weren't even true, most of them."

Regina gave her a tight, but reassuring smile.

"I never minded. The only insult was that you were capable of taking a decision about Henry's future without telling me anything about it. You told practically everybody, even that damned pirate, but to me, his _mother_, you lied."

Regina didn't even sound angry. Only disappointed. Like the mentor she had briefly been, tutoring the Savior in magical exercises. Like the friend she had seen herself become in a frightening but oddly heart-warming future that hadn't seemed so far away at the time.

Now it felt like a vision glimpsed from an alternate universe.

"I didn't lie. I just... I didn't tell. The others, they... they found out. Hook I told to shut him the fuck up."

"You were the one who told me to trust you. And I did. I trusted you not to hurt me. I guess I was wrong, again."

"I was gonna tell you, okay? I was just waiting – waiting for the right time."

"Were you? Or was your true intent more along the lines of running away with Henry in the middle of the night without telling anyone?"

Emma gave her a shifty look, both surprised and sheepish.

"You know?"

"Mary Margaret told me about your failed escapade. If you were feeling entitled enough then to attempt a child kidnapping, I don't even want to know how entitled you feel now to do it again while you have a lifetime of memories of Henry being yours."

Emma didn't seem to know how to answer to that without receiving a fireball, so she shut her mouth and they resorted to their long-life fellow traveler, the silence, to help them get trough the thorny issues thay shared. Emma was lightly tracing the letters of the book's title when she blurted out of the blue:

"Why do you call her Mary Margaret?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why don't you call her Snow?"

"...I tend to try to dissociate her from the woman who destroyed my happiness and whose life I ruined. I figured it's best for the sake of our newfound... partnership.

"Oh. I though..."

Emma shook her head with a bizarre smile as Regina gave her an inquisitive look. The blonde chewed her bottom lip worriedly for a few seconds. When she spoke her eyes were drifting away.

"I miss her."

"Who?"

"Mary Margaret."

Regina quickly looked away as well, unbalanced by the admission. In a protective gesture that made her appear very vulnerable, she put her hands in the pockets of her coat and uncrossed her legs, leaning forward as if she was drawn to the ground.

"I could curse them again, if you like."

She almost managed to pull out a smile from Emma.

"Nice offer, but no thanks. I'm pretty sure the Savior is not supposed to be that selfish."

"You're not selfish, you're afraid."

"What's the difference?"

"And you're more than a title."

"Not for the people in this town."

"Give them time. It's been a year, and I still haven't completely stepped out of the shadow of the Evil Queen. But I think that, the two of us... we can see each other for who we really are. Can't we?"

The hands became fists in her pockets. Her voice sounded more shy, all of a sudden. More young, filled with uncertainty. It was Emma's turn to dare gently pat Regina's knee.

"Yeah. I know who you are, Regina."

And the two of them, they could exchange beautiful smiles when they wanted to.

"I'm just not sure about myself anymore."

"Well, you have time to figure it out, now."

Regina's phone rang loudly, breaking the fragile connection they had been building in their last words. The mayor fumbled in her pockets, annoyed, and practically growled when she saw the name of the caller appeared on the screen.

The sheperd.

"What?" She snapped, picking up and getting up at the same time.

"...I guess I have my answer on whether or not I'm interrupting."

"Of course you are. What do you want?"

"You need to come the the sheriff's station. Zelena's gone."

"What? How? What did you do?"

"Nothing, she wasn't here when we arrived, we don't know what happened yet. But there's a videotape..."

"I'm coming."

She hung up and glanced quickly at Emma. The woman was watching the book again as if it was alive and likely to hurt her, and she looked smaller than she ever had. She didn't even appear remotely curious about the phone call Regina had just received.

Her decision wasn't hard to make when she chose not to tell her what was going on.

Emma had enough to deal with at the moment.

"I have to go. Promise me you'll think about what I said? Please?"

It was the please that did it. Like Regina's amends, such a word was rare in her proud mouth. Emma truly looked at her for the first time since Regina had joined her on the bench.

"Yeah. And anyway, I won't do anything without telling you."

"Better than nothing, I guess. But remember, Emma..."

She leaned towards the young woman with an earnest look.

"Family isn't family until you chose it. Blood matters less than you think. In this end it's your choice to love that binds the bound."

As an adoptive mother, there was nothing she believed more fervently than that.

She hated to leave without being sure that Emma wasn't going to make a mistake that would rob her of the most precious thing there was in the whole world, but she had no choice.

She had an unchosen sister that needed to be taken care of.

She vanished in a light purple cloud of smoke.

.

.

.

"I am sorry about your sister."

They were walking along the beach, arms locked, leaning into each other's warmth. Roland and Henry were running ahead (or rather, Roland ran and bounced happily around while Henry merely shuffled his feet on the sand with a nonchalant smirk, acting more like a teenager than ever) heading towards the slate-gray waters of the sea.

Roland squealed with delight as soon as the lazy waves wet the end of his shoes, licking them like a gentle dog.

He had never been to the sea.

"Why? She tried to have Roland killed."

"No, that was solely the Dark One's threat. She didn't make him point an arrow at my son."

She silently studied the way his jaw was clenched and his hands twitched nervously as if aching to grasp a throat and suffocate it, and she thought with a dry amusement that Rumple had a new serious enemy to be concerned about.

Never understimate a parent's wrath.

"Don't fool yourself. If she had been here she would have killed your son without a blink. She would have removed any obstacle standing in her way. I know."

Robin didn't seem to appreciate the reminder that not long ago she had been the same insane woman driven by vengeance and heartbreak and that her reign of terror had put children in dire dangers. He looked troubled as his eyes fell upon Roland jumping above the dying waves. But his arm never left hers. She silently waited for him to process. She knew she would most likely keep on doing that to see if she could ever reach is breaking point. When her crime would be so horrid he would have no nobility left to accept it. To accept her.

This was probably a very slow and very effective way to self-destruction but she couldn't act otherwise. She had to see how far his acceptance went without it being blindness or delusion. And maybe when she would have broken him with the weight her sins she would know how to make him whole again with her atonement.

"When you talked to her yesterday. Did she seem to be irredeemable to you?"

She was so lost in her self-reflective misery she almost asked him of whom was he talking about. She stared mutely at the waves while she thought about it, the fleeting image of a sneer and a raw vulnerability flashing before her eyes.

_What if I don't want it?_

"No. No I don't think she was. Her story is different than mine. She would likely have accepted surrender sooner. She has lost nothing because she never had anything. It wasn't the same... desperation. She had nothing to hold on to and stop her from moving on."

He acquiesced silently to her words and let her lead them to the stark black rocks upon which they seated, huddled together against the cold, watching the children play. When Regina spoke again, it was with a voice suspiciously brittle.

"For a minute when I talked to her about second chances, I thought I saw..."

She laughed bitterly and shook her head in fierce disgust at her naivety.

"But clearly, I was wrong. It seems that to kill herself had sounded a more enviable notion to my sister than accepting anything from _me._"

"Or maybe it was remorse."

She gave him a half-exasperated, half-condescending look.

"You're a good man, Robin, but you're such a fool."

Desirous to keep his lightness and humor at any cost, he answered cheekily:

"I prefer to think of me as an optimistic man."

Then, more seriously and squeezing her arm still linked with his:

" I believe that none of us is beyond redemption or help. And that people can always surprise you..."

He stroke her cheek in a tender gesture, with leather-clad fingers, and then cupped her face to bring her closer to his and merge their mouths together. The wind had turned their lips to ice and the kiss was painful at first, then sweet, then warm. Regina pulled away after a few blissful seconds, resting her forehead against his, her mouth taut in a tortured line. His hot breath felt good on her face when he murmured:

"You're allowed to be sad, you know."

She let her head fall into the crook of his neck (covered with his scarf, and hiding all the lovely marks her teeth had left upon the skin yesterday night) and spoke with her eyes closed.

"I don't want to. I've been sad all my life. I'm ready to try something else now."

When she eased herself out of Robin's embrace to check on Henry and Roland again, she saw the latter racing butt naked into the sea, his clothes discarded at Henry's feet who was giggling uncontrollably as the little boy who had probably bathed in colder waters and tougher weathers than those of Maine shrieked and hollered war cries.

It took her a while to realize she was laughing also, to recognize the carefree and rich sound bursting out of her throat for what it was, and only when Robin joined her did she feel strong enough to continue until she was breathless, not quite sure she had earned the right to be so full of glee, but feeling as if no one could deny her this instant.

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_**...A review a day keeps the gloom away!**_

_**Thank you for reading darlings.**_


	4. Chapter 1

**This one was a bitch to write. And it's the longest ever, so sorry about that but I didn't know where to cut, I'll have more restraint next time.**

**It's funny, I swear I wrote the Snow/Regina scene in the Frozen style with the door before the scene occurred with Emma in the new episode, just like I had written the Robin/Regina scene in her office. Coincidences, sometimes. I don't know if I should be glad to have guessed right or miffed by my lack of inventiveness.**

**Anyway, here's the new chapter, I hope you'll like it, and again, thank you for the reviews and the followers! **

**I don't think I'll follow the show's direction because I already have a plot and everything but apparently some scenes are likely to be the same so, I don't know.**

**Oh, there's some OQ sexy times at the end for you.**

**Enjoy!**

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**CHAPTER 1 – Of vows and woes**

_**In which Regina goes heartless again, Snow is being far too clever, Robin has made a choice, and a certain ice queen is caught wandering in Storybrooke's woods.**_

_._

_._

_._

_She doesn't understand._

_She is running, running wildly on a strange-looking, strange-feeling black road, heading towards the woods, towards aloneness and safety. The wind is howling at her ears, leaving frosty tears on her cheeks, and ice spills from her eyes to the ground, flies from her fingers to the trees, embraces fireflies and mothes in a deadly-cold hold, freezes the whole night._

_She doesn't understand._

_She knows how to control this, she had fought like hell to overcome her fear, she had learned the hard way, she had tamed her magic, bent the ice to her will, she is strong, she knows..._

_Was strong._

_Knew._

_Elsa screams. But the soft muffling snow is a gag for all desperate cries._

_Everything is falling appart around her._

_And her memories are painted in black._

_._

_._

_._

She doesn't understand.

In the mirror, she is the same.

Her reflection hasn't changed.

Yet, she feels she is looking at a stranger.

A stranger with a foreign heart.

It pulses so bright red between her tense fingers. The dark has receded, chased away to the edge. It's funny. She had always thought the blackness in her heart came from its rotten core, and now she is learning that it had always concealed a vibrant red under all the filth. It looks almost normal, now. Almost like the hearts she used to take from her victims, almost like the one of the young girl she had been as Rumplestiltskin pulled it out of her chest to make her understand the value of control. Almost. Not quite. But the change is sufficiently substantial to give her pause. How can it have changed so much from the moment Robin helped her put it back to now?

Maybe it had needed to catch up with her. Just as her mother's heart had remained red while the woman committed her atrocities, hers must have remained dark even as she stepped onto the path of goodness (or self-righteousness as she often thinks when she feels particularly bitter or disgusted with herself or slightly worried of what her priorities had become now that it doesn't involve killing Snow White anymore) only to lighten when it found its right place again. Her heart had only been late, that is all.

Regina scoffs. The sound is mostly hollow and hoarse, but feels oddly satisfaying. Such silliness. She turns the heart in her hand, slowly, much like she did many years ago with her beloved apples, fascinated by their bloody hue and perfect shape. What she feels now however isn't so much fascination as wariness. She doesn't know what to do with that _thing _anymore. She pulled it out to get some relief, to be able to think clearly, but it had helped neither. She knows it takes time to work properly, and that at most it only dulls her emotions, never prevents them or weaken them enough to help her forget. To be heartless, for her, is like to have a thin veil concealing a flame. The burn is less intense, but she still feels its sting.

She is breathing loudly as she bends towards the mirror, her eyes gazing far past her own reflection, her tone almost a prayer as she whispers:

"What should I do?"

But the mirror doesn't answer. Everything remains still inside the frame, everything but her trembling lips and searching eyes. The genie has been gone a long time now, but still she turns to her mirror, seeking advice, demanding comfort. He had provided it more than once in the Enchanted Forest last year, that is until she had found a way, with Belle's help, to finally free him from the wish he had made. He had looked so lost when she ordered him to go back to Agrabah, to his land, and to try to have a life of its own at last. She had almost cared when he began to cry (she did care, otherwise she wouldn't have tried to give him freedom, though this freedom had seemed more of a death sentence to him) and they'd had probably the most honest and open-hearted conversation they had had in ages before she eventually sent him away with a goodbye kiss that left him holding his lips with his fingers. Snow had been thrilled when she had learned what she'd done, thrilled and proud (as if Regina was somehow a child whose achievements should be cheered on, a feeling that had left her deeply upset when she first realized it but which merely made her scoff afterwards) and Regina had nodded curtly in response to her warm smile. But when she had been alone in her chambers that night, and looked at the dark and mute mirror, she had achingly felt the absence, and missed the subtle solace of having someone to talk to intimately about her most secret schemes and worries even if it was someone she couldn't stand.

And now her confidant is gone, and there is no familiar face to guide her through the darkness.

"Mom?"

She almost drops her heart and she holds back a cry as her fingers close in by instinct on the fragile organ. It's beating loudly in her palm now, as surprised and shocked as she is. Henry ! How could she have forgotten...? She has been so used to the quiet and the loneliness it became second nature with her. She feels her heart give a small somersault as warmth spreads out within her at the sound of her son's voice. She closes her eyes.

"Mom? You're okay?"

Her decision is so much harder to make. She doesn't know what it will be until the very last second when her grip loosen and her breath evens. She focuses on Henry. On his smile. On the way his head tilts when it is full of questions and how his eyes narrow when he knows something is up and he is trying to see past her walls and merciful lies (_yes I'm fine, of course Santa Claus is real, no dear I'm not upset_). Her little prince. She won't burden him with her heartache. And she doesn't have to fear the cold and the void. He will keep her safe. He will keep her whole.

Even without a heart in her chest.

"Mom?"

A knock at her door. Her action is swift and precise, a clinical move, as she puts her heart in her empty jewellery box and locks it in the top first drawer of her dressing table. She straightens, fixes her hair and gives one last look into the mirror. She feels light enough to fly for a whole minute, enjoying the liberating taste of having made a decision. Her smile is not pretty, but fierce.

"I'm coming, Henry."

She doesn't second-guess. She walks straight out of her room without a backward glance.

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.

.

"David, can you watch the baby for an hour or two? I'm going over to Regina's."

"You _what_?"

The reaction couldn't have been more extreme if she had plainly said she was moving in with Regina. David had bluntly asked if she was going mental as Emma paled and and walked out of the room, guilt-stricken. Even Red had suggested she'd borrowed the fire extinguisher from the diner for when Regina would set her on fire, Grumpy offered his pickaxe and Granny shook her head, calmy wiping up a glass, muttering something about Storybrooke going down in flames quicker than beer went down in Leroy's throat. They told Snow, again and again, that it was sheer folly, but she was inflexible, and when Bashful pathetically said: "think about the baby!", she jumped from her seat and lashed out at them, fists tight and teeth clenched. The pregnancy that had softened and rounded her might have made them forget what a fierce woman she was at the core, but she would be quick to remind them if they dared question her choices and resolves. She had lived for years under the threat of the Evil Queen's wrath, hiding in the woods like a common criminal and learning to fence for herself through hunt and banditry, she had survived a near execution, two curses, the heartbreak of missing her daughter's childhood and the abduction of her son right at birth, not to mention the multiple times when she had thought she would never see again the love of her life. She was tougher than her meltingly soft name suggested. Her soul, as pure and wholesome as it was, was made of unyielding wood.

And if her beloved people persisted in being overly dramatic and right blinkered, _she _would be the one to burn them to a crisp.

"Stop it! All of you! You're being ridiculous. This is Regina we're talking about..."

"That's the thing, sister, the Queen's likely to be..."

"Regina, not the Evil Queen. It seems most of you don't mind the difference. Or have you forgotten how much she has helped us this year?"

"I mostly remember the foul mood she's thrown on us every single day of said year..."

Granny merely shrugged under Snow's unamused glare and took another glass to wipe up.

"Look, Snow, no one is denying what she did or how much she changed..."

"Even if a couple of extra sorrys wouldn't have hurt on top of it."

"...but you have to admit that you've often assumed the best of her and she deceived you more than once. And I don't think she wants anything to do with any of us right now. Maybe it's best if we let her cool off on her own."

"Yeah, let sleeping wolves lie."

"Hey, careful with that kind of joke, Leroy."

"Sorry, Rubes."

Snow ignored all of them and focused only on David, looking straight into his eyes.

"Better to assume the best of people than to assume the worst. If I had ever thought otherwise, I would never have given you a chance. To neither of you, I believe."

Red broke off whatever staring contest she had been engaged in with Grumpy and raised her head to look at Snow with a bright though nostalgic grin on her face. The werewolf had probably been the one who had benefited the most from Snow's unfaltering optimism and complete trust. Comforted by her friend's reaction, Snow held her ground.

"It's been two days. Regina is hurt, she is alone right now except for her twelve years-old son who shouldn't have to be the one holding his mother together. I have to go. I want to go."

She knew she had won when she caught sight of David looking at her as if he was suddenly remembering why he had fallen in love with her in the first place. Not that he ever forgot. She liked the fact that she was always able to amaze him, that his gaze never showed any tiredness or force of habit when it fell upon her.

"You go, then," Granny concluded, "and be sure to keep the damage to a minimum. For all people included."

Snow nodded to Granny's intent look and smiled, grateful. She knew the woman's concern hadn't been only for her. For all her sass and her barbs and her rough personality, Granny had more heart than she would ever let other people know. And she might challenge Regina every chance she got, in her passive-agressive, sure and quiet manner, but Snow knew she had some affection for reformed Evil Queen. She had witnessed how they had cautiously bonded in the Enchanted Forest, how the old woman had oftened expressed her worry for the younger one and how Regina had seemed to derive comfort from Granny's gruff care. She had watched it all with a smile and a puzzled expression. She guessed they'd had some experience with lost they had been able to share.

"Hey, mom?"

For a very painful and confused minute Snow wondered who had spoken even as a soothing warmth blossomed in her chest. She looked at her daughter, awkwardly standing in the door frame to the bathroom. Emma seemed still determined to make up for all the times she hadn't acknowledged them as her parents, and though it was still strained and unsettled how she pronounced the words 'mom' and 'dad', Snow had felt the shift in their relationship that night and for once since the curse had broken she had jumped from hoping to knowing things would get better between them, and that a twenty-eight years of absence was nothing compared to the love shared by a mother and her daughter. They could overcome anything.

This was what she kept telling herself anyway, pushing the guilt away while cooing at her newborn baby.

"You... You let me know how she's coping, okay? I would have gone and checked on her but she refused to answer any of my calls so... I don't think she wants me anywhere near her."

This wasn't like Emma at all. The woman who killed a dragon, broke a curse, stood up between a convicted felon and a murderous crowd, stormed through Neverland and fought like hell to get her son back, that woman would never have stopped pushing until she was satisfied she had done everything she could to make up for her mistake and be sure the person she'd unwillingly hurt was all right.

But that woman hadn't been so morally tried before, torn between her belief of having done what was right and the evidence of having deeply hurt someone by doing so.

Snow met Emma's eyes, filled with doubt, and offered her a comforting smile.

"I will. Don't worry."

"And be careful."

She kissed David briefly on the lips as an answer and with a tender caress on his cheek she was gone.

She held no fear for herself as she headed towards the mansion.

She knew Regina. She knew her better than anybody did. Which wasn't saying much given how no one would ever be able to claim to have a thorough insight on the woman's tortured mind and twisted past, and how Regina had always meant to keep it that way.

Still.

Snow had been there from the beginning. She had been there at the dawn, holding the hand of a brave and bright young girl in the garden of Eden, two green souls sharing an age of innocence. She had witnessed the Fall but missed all the signs until it was too late and the angel lost her wings. And after that, there was nothing to do but bear the ever-lasting sunset of Regina's purity, the slow suffocation of her morality.

And then, be there for the rebirth.

Another sunrise. Another chance.

Snow had seen it, the hope, the light (_if she wants to kill you she's gonna have to go through me_), even though she had missed the epiphany, the pure, strong light magic spilling forth from Regina's hands, but she hadn't need to see. She knew. She had always known. Always known she had it in her. Despire every reason, before everyone, before hope and before love, before it had been possible. And now, again, when everyone was more or less fearing the queen's comeback after yet another aborted happy ending, when Marian's escaped fate had restored their memories of the greatness of her evils, Snow knew better. Regina had simply changed too much to ever go back to her old self. Her growth had been to spectacular to be discarded. She had uneasily let people in to her heart again and she would find them harder to dislodge than she expected.

Even though Emma's mistake had surely reopened old wounds and shed the bad blood again between them, Snow wasn't anxious when she knocked on Regina's door. She understood the pain she was likely to be in. she understood it even better because she had been the one to cause a similar one, a long time ago, with a not so different well-meaning blunder. Because of that understanding, she felt she owed it to Regina to try, to be there for her in a way she hadn't been back then because she was so young and so self-centered and too full of herself like all spoiled and adored children. But now, she ad a chance to do it all over, to held out her hand to the woman she no longer saw as the Evil Queen with the hope it would be taken as the hand of a former enemy who had become a friend.

Henry opened the door. Snow blinked slowly, pulled out of her reverie and offered her unbridled smile to her grandson.

"Good morning Henry! Is your mother here?"

The young boy looked like he had just gone out of bed despite the late hour, his hair tousled and casual clothes askew. Snow was struck again by how much he had grown in one year, his now too-short pajama pants showing skinny ankles and mismatched socks. What was new was also the way he was looking at her, no longer with that unreserved admiration one has for his childhood hero, but as if she was simply... human. As if he had access to her flaws. There was deep love and affection and care and still a bit of wonder but at the same time an indulgent and thoughtful expression that hadn't been there before, a mature self-awareness and this, more than any unfitting clothes or any growth spurt, was the undeniable evidence of Henry no longer being a little boy. He was entering the age where you start to infuse your black and white world view with shades of grey. This realization was more unsettling that the vision Grumpy had depicted when she had told them about wanting to check on Regina of the sorceress opening the door holding a fireball in her palm and snarling like an enraged feline.

"Yes, she's in her room."

"Oh, she's still asleep?"

"No, I don't think so. But we had a long night, you know, with talking and stuff."

Snow showed her understanding by a little nod and chose to ignore the stern caution she didn't know what to make of flickering in Henry's eyes.

"Can I come in? I would like to talk to her."

The caution became a warning as Henry shuffled his feet and crossed his arms on his still tiny chest, ill-at-ease.

"I don't know, grams. Mom really had a rough night again and I don't think she wants to talk right now."

"I know, Henry, but I just want to try. I want to make her feel better. Please?"

"But... are you sure you're the right person to do that? I mean, you know, she wouldn't even open the door for me this morning. She said she was fine and that she wanted to be alone and that I should go back to Ma. She's gonna be pissed if she sees you."

And there it was. The distrust. Like it was just after the curse had broken. And even before, when he'd learned he had been adopted. It was the same look, exactly, a look that said no matter what you tell me I won't believe you. A look that said liar everytime Regina said I love you.

"Henry, your mother has changed, you know that. She's not going to do anything. Trust me. Trust her."

"I trust her. I know she's a good person now. I just don't want you to upset her."

"Oh."

It was quite unexpected. And it hurt just a little. Even a lot. She saw how his posture had gone from sleepy to defensive, his smile soft to tight.

"Are you... mad at me, Henry?"

He tensed and uncrossed his arms, flexed his fists, furrowed his brow, opened his mouth and closed it immediatley. She watched the whole display with an ever growing surprise until she noticed how his cheeks were warm and his eyes were bright. He sniffled, so discretely she almost missed it. But she didn't. In one stride, she engulfed him in her arms, and he let her, clutching at her shoulders.

"I don't know what to do, grams. She seems so hurt, like she doesn't know how to smile anymore. Do you think it was too much? Do you think her heart really broke this time? I want to help her but she doesn't let me. She won't talk about it. She hasn't even cried yet."

Snow could do nothing but hold him tight as Henry kept on spilling his worries and fatigue-driven words on her.

"Hush, hush, Henry, it's gonna be all right. You know your mother. She can survive anything. And she has lot of people who cares about her and who are ready to help her get through this."

"I just want her to be happy."

There was so much unconcealed guilt in his tone Snow felt her heart clench. She knew Henry blamed himself for a great deal of his mother's pain. She still remembered his half-whispered confession at the town line, before the deep purple smoke obliterated everything (_it's all my fault... if I'd just lived under the curse with you... none of this would have ever happened_) and the way his voice had shook with helplessness and affliction. Snow loosened her hold and smoothed back Henry's hair with a gentle hand.

"Then we just have to make sure she does get to be. Starting now. Let me talk to her?"

He stepped out of her embrace and looked up at the stairs behind him, towards Regina's room, still hesitant.

"Henry, I promise. If she wants me gone I'll go. But let me try, at least, all right? I really, genuinely care for her. I always have, in some way."

He relaxed and smiled warmly, but still carried his wariness all the way.

"You know she's gonna yell at you to go away before you even open your mouth, right?"

"She can yell all she wants, she'll have to at least tell me so three times before I hear her. Grandmothers and bad hearing, you know..."

She winked at him and managed to draw a chuckle from her grandson, which made her absurdly glad. Though she wasn't worried for their relationship, Henry being the quickest child to ever bond with perfect strangers a missing year was nothing between them, but she felt the discomfort and the gap left by absence and cursed memories acutely sometimes.

That said, she was more worried for the woman who had had her heart broken so many times now that it was a wonder it had not turned into dust in her chest. Snow put her hand in a comforting pat on Henry's shoulder while she walked passed him.

"Okay. Good luck, then. Her room is the first on your right after the stairs. I'm going... I'm going to make pancakes, you'll tell her that?"

As Snow went through the house and then climbed up the stairs, she had a chance to observe the place much better than she had last time she'd been here for Cora's summoning, and she smiled at the gathered memories, the photographs on the wall and Henry's mostly awful handmade stuff adorning the shelves. Regina wasn't sentimental, and the elegant sobriety verging on the austere with which she had decorated her home lead to think that she wasn't one to endure tawdriness. Yet, the items Henry had made or purchased for her were lovingly displayed no matter how ugly or ludicrous they were, and not in the obnoxious way most proud parents would have done but subtly, tenderly, for her own eyes only. Snow guessed Regina must've had kept the most meaningful gifts carefully stored away like a treasure not to be soiled by undeserving or prying eyes. The same went for the photographs hanging on the wall of the staircase. There were few of them. Snow noticed there was no picture after Henry had turned ten, when his antagonism with Regina has been at its worst. She sighed, feeling guilt arise in her heart. She would never regret giving the storybook to Henry, but there was no denying it had made things worse between Regina and her son when the situation was already quite tense. Snow didn't regret it but she felt sorry for the woman, the mother she had unwillingly, unknowingly hurt. It was time to make amends. For both of them. These last few days, they had come a long way and the fragile bond they had initiated in the Enchanted Forest had strengthen with spoken and unspoken words of apology and brave attempts to reach out to one another. She hoped the connexion was still there after the recent events that must have triggered Regina's issues of betrayal and that their progress hadn't been made in vain.

When Snow eventually posted herself in front of Regina's closed door, ready to knock, her courage suddenly failed her and she was overcome by akward, painful, unwanted memories of a little girl always waiting and hoping behind a similar closed door for her new mother to appear, to take her by the hand, to smile and say 'how lovely you look today, Snow', to go out and play with her.

"_Mother?"_

"_Do not call me that, Snow."_

"_Won't you come out in the gardens with me? It's such a beautiful day and the dahlias are in bloom!"_

"_Maybe later, dear. I'm not feeling so well."_

Almost the same scene had repeated itself many times afterwards, along the same lines. Later. Not right now. Not feeling well. Tomorrow. Sad, disappointed, and worried for her step-mother, Snow had ended-up telling her father about Regina's isolation. She had not meant to blame her for anything, but perhaps at eleven years-old her tone had been too whiny to convey well enough the care she had for her new step-mother. All she knew was, the day after she had told the King about her feelings of neglect, Regina's door opened and a beaming, warm, kind, lovely woman excused herself for having acted so rudely and promised from now on to dedicate every day of her life to be by her side and make her happy. She hadn't know Regina very well at the time, her body language was still foreign to her, and the woman (the girl, she was only sixteen, which had been hard to remember at the time, but not anymore) had always worn her mask with dexterity and determination, letting prying eyes slide along the composed features of her face. But Snow remembered now, the tightness around the eyes, the desperate, subtle parting of her lips as if gasping for an air that never came, the stillness of motion, the encompassing apathy of the young bride who was remote from the wild and gleeful girl who had jumped on her horse to run after her and save her life. She had missed it all, then, all the clues of unhappiness and depression. She was just thrilled that Regina was spending time with her anew. But she had never again entered her step-mother's room. Every time she had knocked, a singsong voice answered, the door opened, but she wasn't allowed to set one foot inside, it had never been said aloud but the ban was seared into her mind anyway. She just hadn't dared, foretold by an uncomprehensible dread. She had not complained about it to her father, this time. The boundary was an implicit agreement between Regina and her. And when her father died, during the little time she stayed at the castle afterwards, the door was locked once more, an habit Regina had begun again in the Enchanted Forest this year, keeping her away, locking herself in, and most times Snow had found herself talking to the dark-iron handle hoping to see it turn.

Why would today be any different?

"Is your intention to keep staring at my door until it melts away or are you going to act like a polite human being and knock so I can tell you to get the hell out of my house?"

"R... Regina? How did you..."

"Knew you were here? I could feel the stench of your goodness all the way from the street."

Snow allowed herself a small smile. Regina's witty and too often insulting retorts always gave her a strange sense of familiarity one gets from the playful banter of a sibling. She knew she might come as delusional to some, but Regina was and would always be family to her, whatever the role – new mother, evil step-mother, snarky sister.

"Well in that case hold your nose because I'm coming in."

"You will do no such thing. Go away, Snow White. I don't want to talk to _you_."

The tone was so venomous and held so much resentment that Snow was brought back to frightening memories of the Evil Queen and physically took a step back as if taking a blow. As Henry (among others) had feared, Emma's perceived betrayal had obviously reawakened every bitter feelings the queen had ever born against Snow. Still, she was determined to break through the shadows of their past and Regina's impossibly high walls. She had done it once, in this very house, merely days ago. Why not twice?

"Regina, you don't want to talk to _anyone. _You wouldn't even let Henry come in."

"I need time and I need space. Is it so difficult for your kind to understand because you have no sense of privacy? Why can't you leave me alone?"

"Because we are worried! Because we care?"

"For me? That's new."

"No, it's not. Regina, I'm willing to give you all the time you need. But to leave you alone? That's not a good idea."

"Oh, afraid of what I'm going to do to your precious daughter no doubt, or maybe to this Marian wench?"

"No. I don't want to leave you alone because it's not good for you to be."

"I've been alone all my life, I'm more than used to it, believe me."

"Yes, and you handled it so well. All that loneliness has ever done to you is letting the voices in your head speak louder because there was no one by your side who could chase them away. You need to talk to someone."

"Again, why you?"

"Because I'm willing to listen."

Because I'm ready to. Because I finally know how to, after one year of cautious baby steps and then a whole leap forward. It was only implied in her tone, of course, but Snow knew that Regina had heard the words even if she hadn't spoken them. She could almost feel the other woman's brain rattling with thousand conflicted thoughts on the other side of the resisting door.

"Take it from the woman who had hurt you the most, Regina. I really want to help."

"Is this an act of penance, then?"

"Whatever you want as long as you open that door."

The silence stretched between them for far longer than it was comfortable (and the whole scene was already tense enough). Snow sighed, put her hand on the door, trusting her instinct that told her Regina was probably huddled right behind it on the floor, hugging herself tight to chase the pain away. She wished she could have been there to help her do it. But she had to keep her promise to Henry, and had already insisted far enough. She turned around to leave.

And spinned back when she heard the door click behind her, to see Regina appear in the door frame. She was prepared to see a mess, but Regina looked as pristine and proper as ever, if you forgot the redness in her eyes and shadows under them, or the way her beige suit was crumpled at the waist, which confirmed she had guessed right and that Regina had indeed been sitting on the floor for a long time. Those little signs aside, however, you would never have sensed that this was a woman who had just been cursed with heartbreak. For one time too many.

Regina had opened the door but Snow didn't move, gazing at her with her mouth slightly agape while the other woman began to twitch her fingers impatiently on her elbow, arms crossed and posture straight.

"Don't make me regret this already."

"You did open it."

"Yes dear, that's usually what one does with a door. Thank gods Henry hasn't inherited your brains."

"I meant... never mind."

Regina first looked at her as if she'd grown a second head and Snow felt she was going to endure another sarcastic reply that would be pointing at her lack of intelligence again or at the fragility of her mental health, but some sort of recognition flickered through the dark eyes of the other woman and for a few seconds Regina looked lost and confused and young and guilty and angry all at once and if Snow hadn't known already the width of Regina's emotional range she would have been amazed. Instead she beamed at her, forgiving and seeking forgiveness, thankfully with no trace of wetness in her eyes, and Regina let out a half groan that really wasn't regal before gesturing for her to come in.

Snow followed her without hesitation this time.

As she looked around the bedroom (trying not to be too obvious in her curiosity but apparently failing at it if Regina's knowing smirk was any indication), she sadly noticed that this part of the house seemed to be the less personal of all. It completely lacked the warmth that you already had to seek out in the rest of the mansion. Everything was neat and bare, the colors wan and dull. Even the horse paintings on the mantlepiece were stern and and minimalistic. The only excess if one could call it that came from Henry's colored framed picture on the bedside table in which he was straining his four years-old arms towards the camera, and a drawing, probably made by Henry too, of an apple tree full of rainbow-tinted apples. It was the sole clue of a human being actually inhabiting this room that had otherwise loneliness painted on the cream-colored walls.

"Enjoying the view, dear?"

"Not necessarily."

Regina let out a surprised chuckle before she could catch herself. She tended to forget that under the goody-two-shoes demeanor of meek Mary Margaret and the self-righteous morality of the princess lived a woman who was quick-witted and resourceful, not deprived of a certain dry humor she suspected Snow had got from her, and she secretly enjoyed the fact that her own sharpness had influenced the girl.

"How's your little boy?"

"Perfectly fine. He didn't have a single nightmare despite all he's been through. He's resilient, just like his godmother."

Regina scoffed.

"Enough with that. I haven't accepted yet."

"The fact that you just said 'yet' proves that you already agreed."

Regina glared and Snow responded with a wide and candid smile. They had indeed talked about this before the public announcement of the baby's name (before Regina and Robin had excused themselves and slipped out under the pretense of buying little Roland an ice cream – Granny had brushed them off when they asked her for one, saying it made no sense to make oneself cold inside while it was below forty outside – when what they did do looked more like making out under the cheering stars) and Regina had snapped again and again that Snow was being terribly foolish and that given her history she was more likely to curse that baby than bless him and shouldn't she be searching for a _fairy _godmother anyway? But when Snow had ingenuously sighed and pretended to settle for the Blue Fairy (Ruby Lucas had already been asked between tears of joy to be the other one given that Snow decided not to give a godfather to Daniel – women were so much better at protection, she had coyly said to David who didn't have to try very hard to look offended) Regina had hissed with disgust and said briskly that she would thought about it.

Which she had. Of course. It was yet another chance that Snow gave her to wipe the slate clean and rewrite her history. And again, she wasn't sure she had the right to take it.

"Don't be smart, it grates on my nerves. So who's watching Daniel while your here doing your good deed of the day?"

Snow smiled for herself at the sudden softness in Regina's tone saying Daniel's name, and sat on the side of the straight made bed without waiting to be asked, doing what she had always done: barging in on Regina's life, intruding her world, making herself at home next to her.

It didn't annoy Regina as much as it used to.

"David, of course."

"Really? You are aware I take that the only thing your so-called prince has ever watched were goats and sheeps? If I were you I'd be wary to entrust to him something that has no hooves."

"David is Daniel's father, Regina, I think he can handle it."

"If you say so, dear. But for the record last time we left Henry in his care he let him drove a truck through several mailboxes."

"Emma is with them."

"Wonderful, now you can ask straight away your cabinetmaker friend who loves puppets to build your son a coffin."

"Regina!"

The scolding wasn't heartfelt, given Snow was surprised Regina didn't try to express further disgust and dislike as Emma's name was mentionned. The woman merely looked away and leant against the windowframe, soft, silky curtains caressing the side of her face, her arms hugging her slithe body as if she was trying to hold herself together, to hold whatever darkness that threatened to pour out from her as she was brought back to her predicament. There was a long, pregnant pause, during which the pixie-haired woman looked at Regina with a sore and kind smile while the queen looked on steadily through the window and the town that was both hers and foreign. She felt estranged. Remote. Still facing away, she spoke in a hushed tone:

"I don't want to talk about him."

"You know she didn't mean to hurt you."

Regina made a sudden about-turn, an enraged snarl on her lips.

"I said I don't want to talk about Robin!"

"I'm not talking about Robin, I'm talking about Emma."

"I don't want to talk about her either", she frankly growled, enunciating each word with an excruciating slowness.

"You have to!"

Snow stood up, looking clearly distressed.

"Regina, listen..."

"What do you want me to say, Snow White? That I know she didn't do it on purpose, that she didn't intent to cause me pain? I do. That I can't blame her for having saved a life? You're right, I can't, and I won't. You want me to forgive her? I do, for what it's worth, because there is nothing to forgive. She made the choice she thought was right, that anyone would have thought right. Can't blame someone for being a hero, can you? So if you're afraid I'll retaliate, don't worry. The vengeance drive isn't that much strong in me anymore."

Mostly, Regina looked as if there wasn't much strenght left in her at all, and the way she was still standing straight and tall seemed to be the doing of a miracle, pure survival instincts kicking in and making her function in autopilot. Snow carefully approached her.

"Regina, the only thing I want from you is for you to not take this blow as a punishment."

"Oh, it's a reward then? Am I supposed to say thank you and kiss the staff that beats me?"

"You're not supposed to do anything. You have every right to your anger and your pain. But don't allow them to eat away at you. Don't let it fester in withdrawal and loneliness and self-pity. Don't think this is a justified comeback for your past deeds or a reminder of fate that you're not good enough and that happiness is not meant for you because you'll be _wrong_ and that's a _lie._"

"What makes you say this is what I think?"

"Because, Regina, I know you. Someday I'll might have repeated it enough for you to finally think it's true. I've spent an entire year worrying about your recklessness and what it was hiding and I know the depth of your self-loathing and just how much you believe that you're undeserving of every good thing that happens to you. But you have to remember, that what happens, it isn't because of you. It isn't because of fate. It's not anyone's fault."

"This is what will make me feel better? You, telling me that all of this is just... bad luck?"

Snow leant against the other side of the windowframe, her eyes never leaving Regina's face which still refused to turn towards her, but couldn't conceal any of her distress, even half-hidden by the curtain.

"I doubt anything I would say would make you feel better. But at least you should take guilt out of the equation."

"How? I killed her. That Marian. Robin's wife, R... Roland's mother."

She was choking on words and her fingers gripped hard at her clothes.

"You almost killed her."

"It makes no difference."

"It does. It might be silly, but it does. There's a lot of people you almost killed that have forgiven you. Starting with myself. Give her time and a chance and you might be surprised."

"You have forgiven me?"

At last Snow could look fully look at her, and the raw vulnerability she saw made her want to take Regina into her arms and whispered that everything would be all right, just as the other woman had done when she had been a scared little girl after a nightmare, because Regina hadn't always hated her, hadn't even been mean with her in the seven years she spent feeling trapped in their castle.

Snow smiled fondly and touched Regina's arm briefly.

"Are you really asking?"

Regina's eyes were downcast and her lips wobbled.

"Why?"

"I know you've changed."

"I burned you at the stake."

"I flew away. And I did threaten you before with dark fairy dust. Somehow, I've always thought that you never meant seriously to kill me through all theses years. At least not until I tried to kill _you_. You've never taken betrayal very well."

Regina was gaping at her, and Snow enjoyed for a split second how she had been able to left the queen speechless for once.

"...You can't be serious. I sent a vicious huntsman to murder you into the woods when you were barely eighteen. I think I sufficiently proved that my intent wasn't to give you a flower crown."

"A vicious huntsman who cries over his prey? You could have tried harder."

"Don't blam me, I've been cheated on the merchandise, he was supposed to be ruthless."

They laughed. Somehow, after all that had happened, despite every loss and every grievance and all the mistakes and all the damage, they laughed. It was painful and verging on hysteria, but it helped remove the chains that bound them to the past, one at a time. When they calmed down, Regina faced away again and went back to her silent staring through the window for a few minutes.

"I can't hope. I can't."

"You're saying that to the wrong person. You should hope."

Snow came a little bit more closer to Regina and this time kept on the hand she put on her shoulder.

"You haven't talked to him yet. You don't know what his choice will be."

"There is no choice. He is a man who has been reunited with his true love."

"He is a man who has to deal with over thirty years of his wife being dead. Their reunion might not come as easy as you seem to think."

Regina shook her head, refusing her words, refusing her hope.

"He won't chose me. He can't. He shouldn't. That would be the wrong choice to make."

Snow shrugged.

"The heart wants what the heart wants. Where love is concerned no choice is ever wrong."

However questionable they might be. Even pure Snow White wasn't devoid of remorse. But when things are done in the name of love...

"Speaking of heart... why don't you go fetch yours and put it back where it belongs?"

Regina's brow furrowed as she gasped : "How did you..", only to be cut by Snow.

"I'm familiar now with how you deal with loss and I remember it's quite radical. Plus it's been glowing from your drawer since I came in."

She had done it so quickly last morning she might have forgotten to put back the lid on the box, that was true. Not even attempting to lie or dispute, Regina moved to her dressing table in a sleepwalk motion that looked very odd, her eyes wide and her mouth thin. With the same agonizing slowness, she opened the top drawer and watched the heart intensely, an eerie expression on her face, as if she was facing an unknown entity which held both danger and wonder for her. She pulled it out of the little black box and held it before her eyes, at arm's length.

Then she waited.

She heard Snow murmur, kindly:

"It would be a shame to have gone through all that trouble to get your heart back from Zelena for you not to use it, don't you think?"

Regina nodded absent-mindedly like a well-mannered little girl and her shoulders shook, but neither woman could have said if it was with silent laughter or dry sobbing. Snow took cautious steps towards Regina, until she was inches away, right by her side, and lightly grasped the other woman's elbow to maker her turn around.

Reluctantly, Regina did, as if pushed by a pressure too great to be shaken off, compelled by a fate too tiring to withstand. She felt she had no fight left in her, no will anymore as she let Snow guide her with a gentle hand and soft-spoken words to the edge of her bed where they both sat on. She was empty, calmly obedient, spineless like a rag doll. Her heart was in her hand, and she stilled it against her bosom, but she made no move to put it back in place.

"It has to be your choice."

Regina's lips curled in a distant smile, hopelessness and misery etched on her face.

"Funny you should said that. I've never felt more deprived of choice in my life."

"That's because you're focused on your pain right now. You can't see the big picture."

"Which is what?"

Regina's tone was tired, and not even remotely harsh anymore. Snow bent closer and gripped Regina's knee in a firm hold.

"The big picture is you no longer being plagued by the darkness. The big picture is Henry trying not to burn down the house by making pancakes downstair so his mother can have breakfast with him. The big picture is this town you've saved, those people you've helped, the destiny you conquered, and the love you have but never sees even if it is staring right at you."

Regina bent her head as if unable to bear the weight of what Snow was more than implying, but the determined woman wasn't done with her.

"The big picture is us, Regina. Your family, your friends, not giving up on you, and being here for you. I am here for you."

Regina looked straight into her eyes and held her gaze for a long time, searching, probing, watching out for any sign of untruth or mockery. Snow waited, patiently, as open-hearted as she could, holding nothing back, letting her see everything she needed to see. And then, finally, Regina swallowed, and gave a little nod. Consenting.

It was all Snow needed.

Carefully, tenderly, she put her own hand over Regina's one that was cradling her heart against her chest. She smiled at the woman who was watching her every move with an acute eye. It was Regina's choice, but she knew she couldn't do it without someone's help this time. Never breaking eye contact, making sure at every step that Regina was comfortable with this, Snow slowly pushed against the hand that had begun to shake and forced the heart to seep in, stopping only when she heard Regina's gasp, followed immediately by a knee-jerk reaction to curl up in a ball, only to be stopped by pride. Snow held on to Regina's hand as it heavily fell on the bed, and kept holding on while tremors ran through the skin and muffled cries echoed in the room. She looked away through the window to give Regina some privacy on her tears, but she never let go of her hand, and distractedly stroked the knuckles in a repetitive motion until the heartsick woman eventually calmed down.

She never said a word to Snow when she went to the bathroom to freshen up before coming down for breakfast.

But before she got up and compartmentalize away this moment of weakness, she squeezed back Snow's hand, hard, grateful.

.

.

.

He was sitting there, in the shadows, arms crossed and watchful. He jumped from his seat as soon as he saw her entering and every emotion was painfully laid out on his face for her to read – anguish, care, wariness, relief – she wasn't spared anything. She faltered, for one moment, took a step back and made a move as if to turn away and run as she knew how to do so well, as she had done so many times, running from him until she finally leapt forward only to impale herself on the stake of her own hope and audacity), but she quickly pulled herself together and walked straight to him, shoulders squared and chin raised, her stride brisk and decided, like the monarch she had once been.

"You shoudn't be here, Robin."

"I had to talk to you."

"I showed you how to use a phone."

"In person. I had to see you."

"This can't be a good idea."

"Let me be the judge of that?"

He formulated it as a request, but she wasn't fooled, she knew it was more of a demand, if the way his jaw clenched repeatedly was any clue. She knew he didn't like how she kept dismissing him and making decisions in his place, twice in two days. But he had patience enough to indulge her.

She gritted her teeth. He shouldn't have any. Not with the woman who had killed his wife. This was every level of wrong.

"Go away, Robin. Please."

She brushed past him and opened the door to her office. He entered after her, undeterred.

Her eyes fell upon the fireplace, not well enough concealed behind the couch she had turned around for that purpose, irresistibly drawn to it, and his voice rang out in the room...

…

"_To the return of your heart."_

_Mouths clash and fingers grip hard at clothes and skin. She's not sure how exactly she had ended up like this, astride Robin's thighs, with their tongues soflty caressing each other while teeth nip and bite. They were drinking wine and she had said something that had made Robin laugh and a trail of blood red liquid had run down his chin and she had murmured while smiling "Wait, you have..." and before she could stop herself she had raised a finger at his lips and washed away the wine, then their eyes had locked and she forgot how to breathe, and when she'd tried to pull her hand away he'd held her wrist and guided her finger in his mouth, sucking the wine on her pad, and things quickly escalated. She..._

…

...turned around and asked, hands on her hips.

"What do you want?"

Even if he was taken aback by her hostility, he didn't show it. But she knew better anyway. He had never backed down from her, even at her worst, even as she had repeatedly threatened to gut him with his own arrows. She didn't know if she should be relieved or angered by his boldness.

"I don't blame you for Marian's death."

She certainly hadn't expected him to get so fast to the point and tell her something that went against every disastrous scenario she had made up.

"What?"

"I've thought about this, and, logically, it doesn't make any sense. I would have _known_. You couldn't possibly have concealed her execution, from what I've heard you were never the discreet type. It would have been publicly announced and carried out. There is no way this would have escaped me. And it doesn't make any sense in my heart either, because I know you didn't do it, I can't explain why, I just... _feel _it."

She looked away and walked to her desk, wanting to be as far away from him and his soulsearching eyes as she physically could, since she couldn't distance herself emotionally. With a snap of her fingers, she lit a strong fire in the hearth, feeling dangerously cold even as she knew his confidence and sentiment should have made her feel warmth.

But the shadows had closed on her when the door that lead to her happy ending had slammed in her face once again.

"Well your obstinacy to overlook my evilness is admirable, Robin, but I think you're quite mistaken."

"No, I'm not."

She sobbed a hollow laugh, unsettled by his belief, tortured by hers.

"Yes, you are. You are mistaking the woman I was for the woman I become. I was more cruel and insane than you can possibly imagine. Not only am I sure that I did kill Marian but I can tell you that I must have enjoyed it immensely."

She watched with a dark satisfaction how his hands turned into fists and his face fell, a nerve twitching in his cheek.

"I don't even remember, you know?"

She had spoken quietly, failing to inject venom in her voice which cracked slightly.

"That's how many people I've killed. I can't remember them all anymore. The same dull faces on a spike. The same monotonous bodies hanging at the end of a rope. The same tears. The same screams. The same pleadings. Hundred. Thousand. All dead. Because of me. And your beautiful wife, the mother of your child, among them, bloodless, lifeless..."

She was cut off by the hand he put on her mouth in a gesture both rough and gentle. She hadn't heard him coming from behind her. She probably would have gone on forever if he hadn't stopped her. She was glad he did. Her throat was burning so much she felt as if she had swallowed the flames from the fireplace. And his body was burning hers also, his chest pressed against her back, pushing her towards the desk, his other hand on her hip, keeping her in place. His fingers flexed and trembled. He felt needy and starved, as if they hadn't touched for years, when it had been only two days. She knew the feeling. She shared it. Her eyes were closed when he breathed in her ear:

"Don't. I know what you're doing. Don't."

She pushed him away with as much strength as she could gather in her distraught state and tried to go back to what she knew best. Taunt and attack. She looked him square in the eyes and cackled.

"What, is the truth too much to handle?"

He refused to take the bait and kept staring, unblinking.

"It's not the truth. You didn't do it. And I'll prove it to you. I don't know how, but I will."

She shook her head, bewildered.

"Why? Why is it so important that I did or didn't kill your wife in a past that's now gone anyway?"

"Are you serious?"

"I mean what does it matter one life more or one life less beside all the ones I took?"

"It matters. Life is too valuable for one to claim that it makes no difference if someone lives or dies."

"I had no respect for life back then. I valued nothing but revenge."

He watched how the reflections of the flames danced on her face, a fine work of light and shade enhancing her beauty, both dark and fair and always riveting, he watched how the moving shadows blurred the emotions usually so poorly masked, turning them into a guessing game. He didn't know if she had genuinely forgotten to switch on the light in the office, or if she had done it on purpose because he was easier to push away if she didn't have to look at his face.

Because she wanted to prevent him from seeing right through her.

"Regina..."

…

"_...we can wait..."_

_She stops long enough to gasp "_I_ can't." and he laughs against her lips. She likes this. He is both playful and cautious, eager and gentle. Always gentle. Always minding. Making sure this is all right. That she is comfortable. She doesn't know where he finds his restraint. She sure doesn't have any herself. She sinks deeper into him, grinding her crotch against his thighs, and he no longer laughs, he is the one gasping now as her heat surrounds him and her mouth claims his throat. He gives up all pretense that this is a casual session of them making out and lifts up the hem of her dress, already pulled up way past the point of decency, until his hands are able to find her back and he clutches at her, pressing her still harder against him, kneading her flesh with hungry fingers, while his mouth descends on her neck to suck and lick at her pulse point until she endlessly shudders in his arms. He is gaping at her and she doesn't even realize, she is so..._

…

...tense right now it was a miracle her spine hadn't snapped.

"What do you mean something happened?"

"We've found a girl. In the woods, all alone. She was lying inconscious on the snow and we thought she was dead at first, but she was still breathing. But when we brought her closer to our fire, she woke up, and started to panick, and _ice _spilled out from her fingers. I think she's some kind of magician."

Regina sighed and rubbed her forehead in a weary motion, clearly annoyed and bored as a new complication arose yet again, polluting her life further more.

"Did she say who she was?"

"Her name's Elsa. She comes from a place called Arendale. And she asked several times after an Anna. She was quite delirious. She's at the hospital, now."

"Arendale..."

"Have you heard of it?"

"Maybe... I can't quite remember. Anyway, that's a new problem we have to deal with on top of everything. She probably came through the portal with that moronic Charmings' offspring and her love-sick puppy pirate. By the way why didn't you go to her about that? Let her at least handle her own mess. Besides, she has to earn her sheriff's salary, given how she fought me for that job."

"I wanted to see you."

His tone couldn't have made it more clear that he didn't care much about any ice sorceress or law enforcement agent. That he had just been glad to find an excuse to see her. That by coming to her office, he had only cared for one thing.

Her.

"What I want most of all is for you and I to talk about all this. To talk about us."

Her heart skipped a beat. Something shifted in his eyes, and he made a step forward. Then kept walking towards her. This was it. The moment she had most feared. The moment he would say goodbye. She tried to look away but she had nowhere to run, she couldn't not hear what he was going to say, couldn't put her fingers in her ears and sing to herself like she did when she was a little girl and her mother was humiliating her father in the other room, yelling at her nanny, or tormenting the servants. Self-denial and avoidance only worked so far. She tried not to project herself, she tried to strangle the pesky little voice that was in rapture over (_us, us, he said us_) what he'd just said, a little voice that sounded too much like Snow's incentives and smelled like hope. She was struggling to rein it all back in when he eventually reached for her and touched her elbow encouragingly.

"I think we should move this..."

…

"_...to the couch..."_

_Her naked back is laid down on the rug and its rough touch contrasts with the gentleness of Robin's hands. She can't help but writhe and squirm every time his lips or his fngers brush a sensitive area and she knows her restlessness will give her scorch marks, the skin on her back is on fire, but she doesn't care. _

"_D...Do you want to stop?" she manages to breathe between muffled moans._

_Her leg raises up slightly, settling between his own and she clearly feels his answer against her thigh even before he gives it in a strangled groan:_

"_Hell no."_

_He kisses her right on her broad and bright smile until it melts into languid lips and soft sighs. Then his tongue is trailing down her body as if he wants to taste and clean every bit of her skin. But some of it is still concealed to him, so she takes his hands in hers and guides them to the clasp of her bra, laughing at his unexpected dexterity in removing the undergarment._

"_Archers have such nimble fingers..."_

"_Trust me, milady, you haven't seen _anything _yet."_

_Before she knows it his hand sinks down between her legs and soon there is no more clothes keeping their flesh apart and she does get first-hand knowledge of his skill. _

_He certainly wasn't boasting, she thinks as she archs against him and bites her lips until she draws blood to keep the loud noises desperate to go out inside her throat, and if he keeps going on like this..._

…

...she wasn't gonna be able to hold on much longer. He was sitting much too close and much too far, the place was all wrong, the scene was all wrong, as if they were replaying a sadder and twisted version of the wonderful evening they had spent here two days ago, as if they were erasing all the good memories of those stolen moments and replacing them with heartbreak and helplessness and sorrow.

"Whatever you have to say, say it fast, I don't want this to hurt more than it already does."

She was trying very hard to avoid his gaze but whatever she did she felt compelled to return to his eyes, pulled by the overflow of feelings she saw there, pouring all over and dragging her along under water to drown. It's always the people you love. It's always the people who love you. When you've survived every shot and every blow, they're the only one who can hurt with a touch, scorch with a caress, destroy with a kiss.

"I don't want to hurt you."

The smile she gave him was full of pity.

"Then leave without another word, because all that comes next can only hurt."

He heaved a sigh that seemed to be pulled out directly from his heart and hesitantly took her hand in his. She tensed, not because of the touch, but because he had hesitated. Because he no longer felt like they could touch one another freely. Because they couldn't. And it hurt beyond words.

"I have to stay with Marian. For awhile."

She closed her eyes, gave a thin, defeated nod, and removed her hand from his grasp.

He took it back.

"No, listen to me. I know this will probably be difficult to understand. I just... I need more time. I have to make right by her, by my family. I may have moved on – I _have_ moved on. But she hasn't. And... it wouldn't be fair to force my choice on her. I have to... I have to see where she stands and what she wants and helps her make the best of this infortunate situation. And that means, for now, that I can't be with you."

The more he talked, the more he felt that she was further retreating in herself, growing distant, deafening her ears to his pathetic words of explanation that conveyed so badly what he really wanted to say. He used to be good with words. He used to know his path. To know his heart. He could look ahead and knew where he was going. Now everything was a mess and dreams and hopes were scattered on the floor and the trail was cold. Happiness had flown away like a frightened bird. But he would catch it again, because he was better than a hunter.

He was a thief.

And he could cheat destiny.

After all, destiny had cheated him.

"I am no longer the man Marian fell in love with. A man that I wasn't always proud of. I've changed, and I don't think the two of us can ever go back to what we had... but I... I need closure. That's why I need to take a break from our relationship. Not because I don't want to be with you. But so I can focus on helping Marian see that I am no longer the man who married her, and make her understand that my heart lies elsewhere now. Regina, I have feelings for you. Strong feelings that I can't fight off and that I don't know what to do with."

"Burn them."

Her voice had been so low he almost didn't hear her.

"What?"

"Crush them. Forget them. Get over it. From what I've understood, the feelings you have for me are the only things keeping you from being happy with Marian."

"What? No, I said..."

"I don't know if it is some perverted sense of loyalty that makes you still care for me but you can stop that any time you want, and the sooner the better because it isn't fair for anyone. If you can't let me go I will."

"Regina, please, this isn't what I want..."

"And what about what _I_ want?"

He was fumbling, grasping at straws to save them, searching desperately for a way to make her understand, to make her see, to be let in, but he knew he had lost her as soon as she had snatched her hand away. He had no hope to touch her again now.

"I want you out of here. I want you gone. Now!"

_..._

_It's frustrating at first because she gets frightened by the intimacy and tenderness of it all and wants to take the lead, so she pushes and fights and claws and bites, and he has to calm her down, soothing every assault with a loving kiss and a gentle "hush". He tells her to relax and enjoy herself and to forget about the control, to forget about the dominance, to let herself _feel –_ and it's not something she knows how to do, so he helps her, he distracts her, he guides her every step of the way, never leaving her alone, coaxing her into voicing her needs and desires._

"_Tell me what you feel."_

_The pace is agonizingly slow but every thrust feels like he is going deeper and deeper into her until there is no room left, no place for second guessings or self-consciousness, no telling where his body begins and hers ends and no way to form a clear thought in the dusk of pleasure._

"_I don't... I can't..."_

_He is cradling her in his arms while rocking languid hips against her own and no one has ever held her like this, he is so careful, so fierce, she has always known only one rule, to take or be taken, and she had sworn to herself she would never know the latter again after her marriage, but this, the gentle love-making, the thoughtfulness of desire, it doesn't play by her rules, there is nothing to gain and nothing to lose, no victor nor vanquished. This is falling, and being caught, and falling again, and flying, together._

"_Talk to me, Regina, I want you to talk to me. Tell me..."_

_She shakes her head again and again and when she opens her mouth loud moans are escaping her instead of words. He slows his pace even more, until the motion feels unbearable to the both of them and Regina almost whines._

"_Robin..."_

"_What do you feel?"_

_He is peppering kisses on her face, her neck, her shoulders and he keeps asking her, keeps pressing her, words muffled against her skin, until she knocks her walls down and lets herself be free._

"_...w...warmth."_

"_Go on."_

"_...Completeness..."_

"_Keep... keep going..."_

"_I don't, I don't know, Robin, I don't..."_

"_Look at me, Regina. Open your eyes. Keep them open. Look..." _

…

"...at me, please!"

She had risen from the couch, hands clutching at her chest, the fire roaring behind them like a wild beast. Robin was desperate now and words spilled from his mouth faster than it ever did:

"If I thought for one minute that there was no dishonor and no wrongdoing in leaving Marian to be with you I would do it without a second thought. But I can't. I made a vow, to be by her side until death do us part. Now that she's alive again, so is my promise. I can't just... I can't just unmake it. I have to honor that vow."

"So this is about honor and duty? Leaving me makes you a noble man?"

"I'm not leaving you I just... I just need time, I need more time, if you could just give it to me..."

"I won't."

She turned around and faced him with the foulest look she had ever given him. Even when she was supposed to be hating him in the Enchanted Forest, her anger had never seemed indomitable. His heart crushed under the weight of her dead, black stare.

"You make your choice now. If I am truly the one you want to be with, you will choose now. You won't need time if your heart is sure. I won't wait for a hypothetical future where you might decide that you want to come back to me, hoping for it while I get to watch you playing happy family. I won't put myself through this kind of torture. I won't..."

She put her arms around herself the way she always did when she was feeling insecure and tried to protect herself, to make sure she wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her fall and shatter. He caught a flash of dark leather and silvery steel, of red lips and black khol, and for a moment he thought the Evil Queen had decided to come back to life. But then her eyes fell on the couch, lingered, and she seemed to shrink, and slim, and fade away.

"You think I won't choose you. You think that if I go back to Marian, I'll remember what it was to be with her, and that I'll choose her. Don't you?"

She gave him a warning look but instead of letting her insecurities show, she answered matter-of-factly:

"Of course you won't choose me. And why should you? Do the math, Robin. A monster on one side, your first love on the other... I know what I would choose."

She was at the crossroads now. She could go both ways. Get back on the path she knew well, the one which was full of misery and hatred, where she lashed out at people because she didn't know how to let herself be vulnerable, or the other one, barely seen, long longed for, difficult but rewarding, the one that allowed her to say _"I was just too scared to approach you."_

She chose wrong.

"And you want to know something else? If I had been in your place, if it had been Daniel that came back, I wouldn't even have looked at you for a second before going back to him. And I wouldn't have had any regrets."

She had practiced deceit for decades. She had learned to look into someone's eyes and lie through her teeth while keeping a straight face and a gentle smile. Emma could boast all she wanted about how her superpower would always work on her, but the truth was it hadn't before the savior had gotten some insight on the woman she was behind her masks – hard mayor, Evil Queen – and she knew how to fake. If she wanted to hurt she knew exactly how to do it.

Robin bleached and blinked and looked as if he was about to snap. Then he slowly got up from the couch, put his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and stared back at her, longing and disappointment and resignation in his eyes.

"I know that you're trying to hurt me. Congratulations, it worked. Not because of what you said, but because after everything you still feel that you have to resort to this attitude to protect yourself. I'm going to leave now before too much damage is done. But this isn't over, Regina. I will be back."

"Don't you dare."

He let out a blubbery laugh because despite everything and how much he suffered he was still taken with this beautiful, stubborn, frightened, impossible woman. He approached her until he was close enough to hold her, expecting a fireball to his head every step of the way, but Regina remained still, stunned, arms standing limply at her sides. She didn't flinch when he lightly kissed her forehead, his hand naturally coming to cradle her neck, and she leant into the touch, into him.

"I hope you can understand, and that once I've dealt with this mess you'll give me another chance."

"Never. Never, I'll never, never..."

She shook her head until he stilled it with both hands and she kept on threatening and raging and breaking and when he tried to hold her because he couldn't take it anymore she violently pulled out and ushered him at the door, pushing him away as fast as she could, hissing at him to get the hell out of her office.

When the door slammed in his face he carried away with him the vision of tearful dark eyes refusing to cry.

…

_He catches the lonely tear that has fallen on her cheek with the pad of his finger._

"_Are you all right?"_

_She is smiling at him with a smile he hasn't get to see on her yet: sated and rapturous and mischievous and just a bit shy._

"_Yes. Yes I am."_

_He laughs and his fingers are buried in her hair and his eyes are looking at her as if she is the sun and the stars and the moon and all bright things on heaven and earth and normally _she _is the one looking at others like this so she basks in his tenderness with absolute abandon. She starts shaking and he finds a way to enclose her even more into his arms and his warmth._

"_Maybe she should put on some clothes..."_

_She stops him from reaching out to the bundle of fabric neglected on the floor. It's not the cold that makes her tremble but she doesn't want to tell him that._

"_Maybe we shouldn't. The night is still young. And my bed is empty."_

_He pretends to be shocked and rolls them around so they are facing each other. She puts her hands on each side of his face, caressing his stubble with her thumbs._

"_We'll still have to wear clothes if we want to get to your house, unless in this world the tolerance to nakedness is exemplary."_

_She chuckles and tells him to hold on tight. He does without question, and soon they disappear in a sparkling white cloud._

_They make love again in her room, and he lets her do whatever pleases her with his body until birds call for the dawn._

…

When Regina left her office that evening, there wasn't a single unbroken item left behind.

.

.

.

There was a simple solution to her problem.

Marian needed to be removed.

If all that kept Robin from returning to her was his honor, she just had to make sure it wouldn't have to be in their way.

And for that, she had to get rid of the woman. No wife, no vows, no woes. Easy as a nursery rhyme.

She had the solution.

Now she needed to find the person who could provide it for her.

No one tried to stop her or question her when she entered the hospital. Few dared to even look at her. She supposed the news of the Evil Queen's happy ending being thwarted once again had probably went around the whole town. A town that most likely feared she was about to go back to some dark places.

She knew the big, ominous smile she had slipped on her face like a second, slightly uncomfortable skin before turning up at the hospital appeared to confirm their worries. But she wasn't here for any of them, they needn't worry.

She was here for a specific person.

She had lied to Robin when she had said she only vaguely remembered the name Arendale.

In truth, she had a precise memory of Rumplestiltskin telling her about a kingdom frozen in an eternal winter.

And of its queen. And her peculiar powers...

As she walked inside the room the patient turned her head, her unbrushed, long blond hair barely concealing the fear and distrust on her face.

"Hello Elsa."

.

.

.

_**At this point, you know what to do... leave a review!**_


	5. Chapter 2

**As promised. Way shorter. **

**EDIT. Thank you for those who pointed to me that I had posted the chapter one again, I must have been really tired last night! Sorry everyone, it's all good now ;)**

_._

_._

_._

**Chapter 2 – Breaking the ice**

_**In which Regina attempts to deal with the Marian issue, Elsa remembers some awful memories and a confrontation between the Savior and the not-quite-so-reformed Evil Queen goes awry.**_

_._

_._

_._

"Who are you?"

Elsa was terrified.

But that was nothing new given how she had spent most of her life being frightened to death to the thought of losing control, knowing that the slightest slip, the smallest mishap, could mean the death warrant for the people she loved.

No, Elsa was no stranger to fear, though she had believed she had overcome it. But being here, in this foreign place, with this strange-looking people and the loud noises and the blinding lights, she felt it all coming back to her, she felt lost and confused and it didn't help that her last clear memory was of an eerie giggling man with golden-scaled skin and fickle hands appearing in her chambers, claiming to be coming back for his due – and she was that due.

She shivered and for a moment she saw something shining in the dark eyes of the woman standing beside her bed – a woman whose dark and conflicted aura didn't help to put her mind at ease – something like pity and understanding, but then the eyelids flickered and the look was gone, nothing but a trick of light.

The dark-haired woman put her hands regally in front of her stomach and straightened her shoulders, answering in a deep and formal voice:

"My name is Regina. I am, one could say, the ruler of this place."

"Storybrooke?"

The woman smiled. Elsa wished she hadn't. Her smile was bloodcurling. Elsa imperceptibly sank deeper into the hospital bed, a childish reaction anchored in the basic instinct of hiding and wrapping up in the bed covers when confronted to a threat you can't see or comprehend – _sleep tight, don't let the bed monsters bite_.

"That's correct."

"Is it a kingdom? Where are we?"

"Not quite. It's just a small town. As for where we are, it's a bit more complicated, and long to explain. Are you familiar with the notions of time travel and parallel worlds?"

Elsa felt her mouth hung open in puzzlement, her brain buzzing with a thousand questions and unable to pick a single one to ask. The other woman – Regina – tilted her head knowingly and she saw a glint of amusement in her eyes.

"I hadn't thought so."

In a casual wave of her hand Regina conjured up a chair out of thin air and Elsa gasped, taken by surprise, as the remnants of a purple smoke slowly vanished. Oblivious to Elsa's unease, Regina sat down on the magically procured chair and crossed her legs, her short, tight skirt hiking up several inches to reveal a generous expanse of soft, creamy thighs covered in silk stockings. Elsa averted her eyes and raised a clumsy hand to smooth her hair in a manner more befitting the queen she was supposed to be. She might have been raised in all the right ways and suffered more etiquette lessons than she was willing to remember, but something in Regina put to shame her own formal uprising. She had said she was the ruler of this land, and ruling seems to come as natural as air for her. She was oozing royalty through every pore of her skin, in the delicate way her neck was stretching as if balancing the weight of an imaginary crown, in the way her smile appeared a double-edged sword, seductive and threatening at the same time, in the way her joined hands enclosed the knee of the leg she had crossed, her arms thus pushing forward her breasts and widening a cleavage which was already quite ample... Elsa gulped quietly and felt mortified to be seen in such a pityful state by someone who seemed to belong to a class of people who would be very judgmental about appareances and flair.

Then again she supposed even Regina wouldn't look so proud wearing only a dull hospital gown and dead leaves in her hair. At least she hoped so.

"But I've heard about you, Elsa of Arendale, and I've heard about your powers. You possess snow magic."

"How do you..."

"Never mind how I know, dear. Suffice it to say I know how powerful it is. And what it can do."

"You're... You're going to lock me away."

Elsa didn't even bother to formulate it as a question, already defeated, already hopeless and shameful. She might have learned to finally control her powers in Arendale but a few good years would never erase the whole childhood and the years subsequent when she had to hide and cower in fear from her monstruous abilities.

She met Regina's eyes with a tearful determination in her own – if she had to give up her freedom to protect other people, she would do it, she had to, she might not have a kingdom anymore but she would forever be a queen, and she knew her duties.

But the woman laughed at her. An unamused sound which was as chilling as her smile.

"Lock you away? And why would I do that? I am not afraid of your powers, dear. I want to use them."

Dread kept growing inside of her, as if the ice that used to form in her hand was now gushing in her body.

"Use it? For what?"

"Why, for sending you back home, of course. You don't belong in this world, Elsa, and you don't belong in this time."

"What do you mean?"

"You came here through a portal. A time portal. One that should never have opened. And because of someone else's mistake, you are now far away from your home, in a place you shouldn't be, against a very fundamental law of magic. And this mistake could have dire consequences if not set right. One simply doesn't meddle with time. Which is why I want to help you go back where you belong. I have, however, one very small request."

Though shaken by what the Queen had just told her, Elsa replied with a tense smile, not duped by the false care in Regina's voice, recognizing the maneuver for what it was.

"And what would that be?"

"That you take someone along to go with you."

Elsa wasn't expecting something so simple and apparently harmless. Frowning, she enquired further:

"Who? And why?"

"Her name is Marian. Like you, she has been removed from her time and place. She was meant to die but was saved just as the last moment, thus distorting the whole timeline of the events following her death. And now, Fate is after her and won't fail to claim its dues. The only way to save her life and prevents everything from going wrong in our time is to bring her to your frozen kingdom. There, neither time nor death will affect her, because neither one exist anymore under your magic ice."

Regina's words were leaving an itch somewhere in the back of her skull, unfolding memories that had been too shy and too shell-shocked to resurface. Elsa felt she was starting to fall and her hands twitched and grasped at her sheets as if physically trying to prevent her mind from collapsing.

"Wait. I don't... I don't understand. I don't understand any of this. My kingdom, frozen? It's... and how am I supposed to go back and open your portal? I can only throw snowflakes and icicles! There's nothing else I can do!"

"Yes, there is. Snow magic is elemental. It's a primary source of power, an energy that is created by one of the strongest forces of nature. Snow witches can transport themselves through any realm, any magic world. I can show you how. You'll need my help only to focuse on opening the right gate. You will be the power source, I will be the compass."

This, she had heard before, or something similar, someone, someone had wanted her to do the same thing, they had asked her to...

_This will be easy as frosty pie, dearie!_

Gasping as the flow of memories assailed her, Elsa had no time to scream as her most recent history flashed before her horrified eyes, refusing to be buried by her fear and her guilt any longer. She could only wail, while throwing herself back on the bed :

"I can't! I can't!"

Regina was taken aback by the desperation in Elsa's voice, a desperation that showed on her own face as she pressed on:

"What do you mean, you_ can't_?"

"I can't, I won't, it's not... impossible, it was..."

Regina suddenly arose from her chair and bent over Elsa's tortured form, her mouth a snarl, her eyes wild with recklessness.

"Oh believe me you will! Or you won't like what happens..."

"You don't understand! I've tried, he made me dot it, and then... there was so much noise and confusion and the snow... was everywhere... it attacked... and then... oh god, Kristoff..."

Elsa burst into anguished tears, hiding her face in her hands, hiccuping through wretched moans. Regina caught her wrist roughly, pulling her hand from her face and forcing her to look up, but as she kept on questioning the young woman her grip loosened and she absent-mindedly drew soothing patterns on her hand, even as her voice was harsh:

"He? Who's _he_?"

"I don't... he looked... the Snake-man..."

"The Snake-man?"

As if grounded in the present by Regina's strong voice and the kinder touch on her hand, Elsa swallowed back a few sobs and answered more clearly:

"He wanted me to open a portal, just like you said, but something went wrong and... a _thing_ came out of it, and then it lashed out on us and there was blood... Kristoff... lost his leg. Anna... I... I barely managed to close the portal and he was so mad, so mad, he said I had cheated him and broke our deal and when I refused to try again he... he cursed my powers. Now I can't... I can't control them anymore..."

It seemed her tears were an unending flow, and despite herself and her disappointment and rage, Regina fell back into old reflexes of soothing and comforting young people in emotional outburst. She sat down on the bed and ran her hand several times through Elsa's disheveled hair.

"Now everything is frozen, again... I have no kingdom to get back to... no family, no home... nothing..."

Regina had nothing to say to that, and she was beginning to experience something that felt awfully like shame has sobs slowly turned to heavy sighs and faraway looks of longing. As always, she pushed back the darkness and focused on the practical.

"What was his name? The Snake-man. Did he say his name?"

Elsa looked into her eyes, trembling.

"People called him the Dark One."

Regina muttered something that started distinctly with an " f " as the door behind her burst as if on cue.

"Regina!"

She didn't even deign to turn around and acknowledge the blonde bane constantly plaguing her existence who had entered the room.

"Miss Swan. Your timing is, as are your manners, impeccable as always."

"What are you doing here, I thought..."

Regina got off the bed, leaving a distraught and confused Elsa, and eventually turning around to stare at Emma, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, her favorite posture when confronted to the other woman.

"Pardon me if I find it unnecessary to keep you informed at all times of my whereabouts, Sheriff."

Regina viciously liked how each time she used formalities when addressing to the woman she looked a little crestfallen at this drastic drawback in their relationship.

"It's not about that, I thought something had happened to you! Your office was a mess! Robin came to see me because he wanted to tell me they had found a girl lost in the woods and he said I'd better check in with you before I went to the hospital. And when I found the desk on the floor and all your windows broken I really thought..."

"By all means, Miss Swan, stop thinking, it will always be better for all the parties included. I'm the one who did that."

She remained unfazed as Emma looked at her, dumbfounded and worried.

"You did that? Destroying your office? Right. Now I'm reassured. You weren't kidnapped, you only went berserk, nothing to worry about."

Finally noticing the patient as Regina heaved an annoyed sigh, Emma asked, wary:

"What happened to her? Why is she crying?"

"She's in a hospital, Miss Swan, she's likely to be in pain and crying."

"Yeah, nothing to do with your sweet tongue and your charming personality, I'm sure. (Speaking to Elsa) What did she do to you?"

Regina rolled her eyes.

"Are we back there again?"

Elsa, who was now relatively calm, answered mildly:

"Nothing. She just wanted me to open a portal. But I can't."

Emma scowled.

"A portal? Really, Regina? After what happened it's not really clever."

"Oh don't go all judgmental on me, _Savior_."

Regina had practically growled, and the tension intensified as the temperature lowered significantly in the room, which no woman noticed.

"You're in no position whatsoever to tell me what's right or wrong. And I was trying to fix your mistake."

"Oh you were?"

Emma crossed her arms in her turn, the leather of the jacket she never seemed to get out off squeaking slightly.

"Were you really trying to make things right? Or did you want to get rid of Marian?"

Emma paled as Regina's lips thinned into a sharp line and her eyes widened slightly.

Frost began to encrust the window panes.

"Regina, I'm sorry, this wasn't what..."

"Get out."

It was soft-spoken, almost a whisper, but there was steel behind the words. Deadly. Poisonous.

The frost slithered on the walls.

"Wait, no, please, I understand you're upset, what I meant was you just can't react like you use to anymore, not after everything that..."

"Don't tell me what I can or can't do."

Regina spat each word as if it was an arrow thrown at Emma's face, echoing without realizing it Robin's words to her three days ago.

Now mist was coming from their mouths as they talked, and Elsa was looking at her shaky, ice-covered fingers with an expression of pure panic on her face.

"How dare you be so self-righteous about what you've done? Have you no consideration for the people you've hurt? For me?"

"Please..."

Elsa's strangled murmur wasn't heard over the defeaning noise of those two antagonistic forces clashing again.

"Of course, I have. I feel terrible about what happened, believe me, my intention was never to hurt you or anyone, but I couldn't do anything else, I couldn't leave her, I couldn't let her die..."

"I don't care about your explanations, I don't want to hear it, I just want you gone, Swan, I want you to stay the hell away from my life!"

"I can't. I want to make this right, Regina, I want to help y..."

Regina roared with laughter, the same bitter, hurtful, crazed laughter that had rang out in Granny's diner that fateful night. She laughed with tears in her eyes and in her heart.

The light flickered, and icicles began to form on the ceiling.

"I want _nothing _from you."

Emma took a step back as if repelled by the absolute hatred Regina put in her words. Fueled by a guilt she couldn't help but feel, her anger at being so ill-treated by the other woman when she only wanted to help her took on a nasty shade and through clenched teeth she hurled back at Regina:

"You're unbelievable! No matter how much you seem to have changed and what progress you've made, you always fall back into your bad habits, the minute things don't go your way you're all schemes and cackles again! How do you think Henry would feel if he learns the first thing his mother wanted to do after being the hero of the day was to rid herself of an innocent woman so she could get her own happy ending?"

The minute she had stopped talking Emma knew she was in trouble. A lot of trouble. There was nothing worse she could have said. She could have punched herself. Why did she have to bring Henry's name into this? Why was her tongue always running faster than her head, why did she end up so often saying things she regretted the moment they left her mouth? Emma was so caught up by her internal rant she failed again to hear Elsa's uninterrupted pleadings in the background. Her eyes remained fixed on Regina, watching with an increased unease the dilated pupils of the Queen and the shadows growing on her face.

Emma would never know how this argument would have ended. As soon as Regina opened her mouth (and it could have been as likely to insult her as well as to breathing fire in her face) a glittering sound was heard behind them and something huge and cold and white that was like a blast of snowy wind sent them flying to the ground. Stunned, Emma set back upright with a groan, very slowly, her hand stroking the side of her face that had hit the ground first. She saw Regina, already up, at Elsa's bedside, her hands on the young woman's shoulders, her face inches from hers, ignoring the spurt of ice flowing steadily from her fingers. She was yelling to cover the sound of the hurling wind that had arisen in the room, and Emma heard: "calm down, Elsa, you need to _calm down_" but the terrified queen was shaking her head, her hands incontrollable, and screamed:

"It's not me, it's you! It's the two of you!"

Emma furrowed her brow, her head still fuzzy, but before she could make sense of what Elsa had just said, she saw it.

The huge stalactite hanging from the neon light, was now barely attached to the ceiling by a few wires.

And it swang this way and that just above the heads of Regina and Elsa.

She had no time to think. With a hiss, Emma stood up, and limped as fast as she could to Regina's side.

She could only push the woman out of the way and onto the floor as the deadly weapon fell on them.

It missed the bed by inches.

And landed exactly on her arm.

As red exploded behind her closed eyelids just as the pain spread out in her body, she heard Regina cry her name (her first name, thank God, you basically had to die if you wanted that woman to show you some kindness and respect) and Elsa's endless string of apologies and now she didn't feel pain at all, only the terrible, the dreadful cold, and when she opened her eyes she saw Regina's aghast face and her lips were moving, saying words she couldn't hear and she tried to smile to show it wasn't such a big deal but none of her muscles seemed to be willing to cooperate at this moment and the cold made her sleepy and with a shrill "no, Emma, stay with us, stay awake!" that pierced through the fog in her mind, she allowed herself to be carried away by the white wings of unconsciousness.

.

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**Bla. I really don't know how I feel about this one. I guess it was more of a filler chapter with, you know, just a bit of plot between all the heart-to-hearts to make this story moves forward. Anyway, let me know what you think ;) next time I will treat you to another Enchanted Forest flashback. **

**Much love, _chers lecteurs._**


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